In the Silence
by thebasketcase1323
Summary: The war is over, but the damage is still done. After hiding their relationship from everyone, Hermione is the one left behind to deal with the aftermath. And she's not sure she can handle life without him. A/N: I've found that the idea of 'moving on' isn't always possible, that sometimes all you can do is remember, and hope to heal. So I guess this story is a manifestation of that


A/N: I don't know where this came from, really. I am traveling so forgive me for what I'm sure are many mistakes. I haven't had that much time to go over it. I was in a weird place while writing a lot of this :) There are sections I'm not too happy with but then again, I'm quite the perfectionist at times so I don't think it ever would be good enough for me. Some of it's cheesy too. But I guess life is sometimes. Who doesn't want cheesy once in awhile, am I right? Haha now I'm just babbling so I will stop. Oh, I apologize in advance if the switch from current day to memories isn't clear enough. Memories are in italics. Let me know if I need to make it clearer. Also, I'm aware the spacing is a little weird but that's what you get for copying and pasting a story from your notes app on your iPad! I hope you all enjoy! Please review and give me feedback on what you think!

P.S. This story is halfway inspired by two different songs. House points if you can tell me which ones!

They lived as if they'd always have tomorrow. It was quite a stupid thing to do in the middle of a war. But how could two young, vibrant people possibly think they might not have tomorrow.

They felt invincible, untouchable.

How wrong they were.

Oh sure, they knew there would be casualties. It was an inevitability of this war. They had already lost so many. But it's one thing to be aware of the fact, it's a whole other thing to realize the next death might be yours.

Or the one you love.

Hermione had entertained the thought a couple of times, but he wasn't really the one in direct danger. She was the one with Harry Potter as a best friend. She was the muggle-born. She could've painted a target on her back and it probably wouldn't have made that much of a change.

Logically, she knew it was a possibility. But so was getting hit by a meteor. It didn't mean she actually thought it would happen.

Unfortunately for her, Voldemort didn't care for what she thought would and wouldn't happen, which was why she was now watching Molly Weasley, draped over what she could see was a shock of red hair, throwing off anyone who dared to touch her.

Oh Merlin, no.

Hermione's stomach dropped to her feet. How could they have lost a Weasley? It was unthinkable...

Fred would be devastated.

She quickly looked around for him, knowing that after such a hard loss he'd need the comfort.

She spotted Ron off to the side looking unsure as to what he should do.

She began walking toward the group, but stopped short as she spotted George, who was on his knees next to the body.

His face was twisted up in anguish, his hand firmly clutching the limp forearm of the person that was laid out in front of him.

That's when Hermione noticed the scar. The one on the tip of the right thumb. She knew. she'd kissed it enough times to recognize it.

The horrific reality of the situation came crashing down on her in one blinding and heart-rendering moment.

He was dead.

Fred was dead.

Unaware of anything but the ashen face she now focused in on, she made to take a step forward. Her legs, unable to process her suddenly increased heart rate, collapsed beneath her and she fell to the cold unforgiving floor of the great hall, cracking her head on the stone before everything went black.

"Hermione!"

"Hermione, are you ok?"

"What happened?!"

She groggily opened her eyes, unsure of her surroundings and feeling as if she'd been hit over the head with a bludger.

Things quickly came into focus. Harry was standing above her. He crouched down and helped her sit up.

The scene before her made her wish the blow to the head had killed her.

Her eyes raked over the strong body she'd grown to love. The smile she loved wasn't there. The personality... everything she knew and adored, gone forever. She could see his face from where she sat on the floor.

No one had closed his eyes yet.

They stared up at the ceiling, utterly lifeless.

Mrs. Weasley had briefly left her son's side to make sure Hermione was OK. She only moved about two feet away though, wanting to be near her baby. She saw George had now taken up Molly's position, leaning into Fred and tightly gripping the front of his blood stained dress shirt.

"Hermione, what hurts? Do we need to fetch Madame Pomfrey?" Harry's eyes bore into her. She felt another set of eyes on her too, Ron's. His expression held worry for her, but she could see the underlying grief. Both of their eyes were red and puffy, tear tracks marring their features.

It took Hermione a split second to process the state of things. She hadn't bothered to answer Harry's inquiries. They closed in further on her, blocking her vision of Fred, which was probably for the best. She was fairly certain she would have thrown up if she had to look at his stark white, lifeless features for even a second longer.

Her head was pounding, making it hard to think properly. She wasn't sure if that was due to the stone floor or the body 7 feet to her right. She had a feeling it was the latter.

Apparently she didn't even need to physically see his face, the memory of it burned into the whites of her eyes causing her to dry heave anyway.

She didn't have anything in her stomach to throw up.

The boys suddenly seemed to realize that something was seriously wrong with her. Harry was now shaking her shoulders relentlessly. All of the sounds around her were drowned out by her own heart hammering in her ears. She was too numb to care. Nothing else mattered. Nothing but her grief. She panicked as she noticed more and more people surrounding her, called over by Harry's frantic shouting. Without a thought she hopped to her feet and took off, shouldering her way through the crowd of people in her haste to escape.

She ran and ran. She didn't stop until she reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. But even that wasn't far enough. Anything to get away from the body. Anything to get away from the images that wouldn't leave her alone.

Desperately, she twisted around, disapparating to the the first place that popped into her distraught mind.

She landed rather heavily, almost crashing to the floor underneath her once more. Stumbling to the door on her left, she wrenched it open, immediately regretting her decision.

It was exactly like he'd left it- clothes strewn all over the floor, random joke products cluttering the various shelves. He might've been just in the next room. She focused on placing her feet in front of her, one after the other.

She walked over to the nightstand and picked up the book there.

Unable to stop it, a memory came rushing back to her, torturing her with its vivid clarity.

 _"You're over-reacting. It's completely harmless." Fred's smirk slipped a little as he took in the murderous look on Hermione's face._

 _"Frederick Gideon Weasley! They're first years! They. Don't. Know. What. They're. Doing." She punctuated each word by jabbing her finger into his chest._

 _"Ow, Mione!"_

 _"Yes. Well, now you know how those poor eleven year olds must have felt when you fed them that horrid nosebleed rubbish." She looked absolutely livid. Fred would be lying if he said he wasn't a little frightened by it. "You could have killed one!" Her eyes widened and her breath quickened a little, taking in what she thought to be a valid possibility in their experimenting._

 _"Oh come on, we're not going to kill anyone. George and I wouldn't do anything that stupid. Besides, we tested them on ourselves first, as I've told you a thousand times already."_

 _"A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool." She glared at him with a look of finality that implied she thought her point made._

 _He paused, looking at her as if she'd grown another head._

 _"I'm sorry, 'Mione, but what the bloody hell are you on about?"_

 _"It's Shakespeare..." She said in exasperation, giving him a strange look, placing her hand on her hip as she did so._

 _"Shake what?"_

 _"Shakespeare... You know, Romeo and Juliet" she stared at him incredulously, "...Hamlet?"_

 _"Ok, now I know your just making things up." He gave an uneasy laugh._

 _"No." She said firmly, "William Shakespeare... he's only the most famous author on the planet, Fred."_

 _"Oh, so a muggle then?" He smirked at her, glad to find a sane reason for his confusion._

 _"Well, I guess." She stated uncertainly. "But he was really talented. I've been thinking about his works a lot lately, given what's been going on and everything. Of course, that's if you believe Shakespeare actually wrote all of the things they attribute to him. You know, many scholars believe it to actually be-"_

 _He cut her off before she could go on one of her hour-long tangents._

 _"Oh yes, I'm sure some muggle author could perfectly describe a maniacal cruel witch hellbent on magically carving words into the hands of half the student population, or an immortal dark wizard who murders people with the flick of a wand." Fred rolled his eyes at her, the sarcastic remark hanging in the air between them._

 _"Well, Frederick, I guess someone who gives dangerous candy to first years is just too small minded to understand."_

 _She turned on her heel, marching out through the door that appeared on the wall at the front of the Room of Requirement without giving him the chance to respond._

Hermione felt her eyes filling with tears. She viciously wiped at them, knowing if she started, she wouldn't be able to stop. The innocent faces of Romeo and Juliet stared up at her from the torn front cover of the book in her hand. A page about halfway through had been carelessly folded over, marking some unknown spot.

She shook with the effort to keep her burning eyes from leaking.

She was fairly certain she was in some early stage of shock. It was as if she were outside of her body. Everything around her seemed so surreal.

She carefully set down the book exactly where she had found it and turned toward the dresser nearby. One of his old Christmas jumpers was haphazardly thrown on top of it. She pulled the woolly material into her hands, bringing it up to her face and taking a deep breath in. Without warning, another memory assaulted her senses.

 _"Fred, we shouldn't be doing this."_

 _"Oh come on, this is half the fun!" He pushed her up against the door harshly and playfully nipped at her neck._

 _"No. Fred." She feebly pushed at his chest, "your entire family is right down the hall!"_

 _"I'm well aware 'Mione, but when you tell a guy he looks sexy in his Christmas jumper, you can't expect him not to jump you." He joked, pressing his body flush against hers._

 _"Well, yes," Hermione stopped mid sentence when Fred started on her neck again. "But... But I..." She trailed off completely when Fred placed a hand on her lower back, pressing them together even further. She let out a tiny growl before forcefully kissing him straight on the mouth, the entire outside world completely forgotten in her lust addled brain._

 _20 minutes later and they were pulling on their clothes._

 _Hermione put a hand on his arm and they both froze, listening carefully as a set of footsteps passed by their door._

 _She breathed a sigh of relief as they continued on down the hall._

 _"I can't believe we didn't even put up silencing charms!" Hermione hissed as she pulled her skirt up over her hips._

 _"Oh hush love, it's all in good fun."_

 _"Yes, until your mother finds you shagging your brother's 16 year old best friend in a broom closet." She huffed in slight satisfaction as she saw him pale slightly._

 _Hermione's bra was hanging just out of her reach from the small light fixture in the impossibly tall closet. She covered her chest and jumped for it a few times before Fred noticed her predicament, bursting out into loud laughs. She rushed over to him, quickly covering his mouth._

 _"Fred, sh!" Hermione said in a slight whisper._

 _He bit at her hand._

 _"Hey!"_

 _"Love, if the sounds we were making earlier didn't send someone running, I doubt a little laugh would do us in." He chuckled at the dark blush this inspired in her._

 _She glared at him._

 _"Well." She stomped her foot clearly waiting on him for something._

 _"Well what?"_

 _"Well," Hermione stated rather indignantly, pointing up at the bra still hanging just out of reach, "are you going to help me out or am I going to have to explain to your mother why I am without a bra?"_

 _"As much as I'd love to see that conversation..." She slapped him lightly on the shoulder as he reached up to grab the article. He paused. "Wait. I'll get it down on one condition."_

 _She rolled her eyes, knowing he damn well better get it down regardless of his silly condition or she would explain to his mother exactly how it got there. She decided to humor him though._

 _"What?"_

 _"Explain why you think I look sexy in a knitted scratchy wool jumper my MUM gave me." He shuddered slightly, obviously not liking the thought of his mother being involved in any way shape or form in his sexiness._

 _"Um..." The skin on her neck had taken on a rather interesting shade of deep red._

 _"Now, now Hermione, you can admit that you think I'm the sexiest man in all the wizarding world. It's okay, I completely understand. It's impossible to resist my manly charm."_

 _She snorted._

 _"Okay, fine. But if you want your bra back any time soon, then I want an answer."_

 _The blush returned to her cheeks as she fumbled with the words. "I... It's just. I don't know... Ron always complains about his jumpers. Every Christmas I have to hear him whine about a hand knitted sweater your mum probably spent hours on and it's just... It's not like she'll be around forever, you know?" She trailed off, searching his face for a reaction. Seeing that one wasn't coming any time soon she rushed on, "it's stupid. It's just... when you received your's this morning, and believe me, I know you were just joking around but... you acted all surprised when you opened it. Like it was the best present you'd ever received. I thought it rather endearing. Not to mention it made your mum very happy."_

 _Fred looked utterly stricken. Hermione wasn't really sure what to make of stricken._

 _"Can I have my bra back now," she stated impatiently._

 _He shook his head as if to clear it. "Of course milady." He bowed as he handed it back to her and she couldn't help but lightly smack him upside the head, which he retaliated by smacking her arse on the way out of the dimly lit closet._

She sniffed the sweater one more time, recalling the fact that he'd worn it for 7 days straight after their little tryst in the closet. Said wearing it seemed to bring him good luck. She ended up having to tell him that his luck would quickly change if he didn't wash the smelly thing.

She couldn't put it down. It still smelled so strongly of him. She wanted to wallow in it for a bit longer, not knowing how much time she actually had left to do so.

She laid down on the bed. The bed in which so many a night had been spent.

Maybe lying down had been a mistake.

Flashes of his hands on her body were making it hard for her to breath. She shut her eyes tight. When she dared to open them again, she saw Fred lying next to her. But it was suddenly very dark. She could barely make out his features.

 _"Hermione... Are you awake?"_

Another memory.

 _"Fred, go to bed." Her voice was slightly muffled._

 _"Alright. Never mind."_

 _Silence commanded the room for a few seconds before the sheets shifted as Hermione removed her face from its squashed position on the pillow._

 _"What is it Fred?"_

 _"I..." He hesitated searching her eyes as best he could in the dark. For what, she didn't know. "You know you mean a lot to me, right?"_

 _He had an odd look on his face._

 _She knew what it was._

 _He is in love._

 _Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. She'd been suspicious for a while now. He didn't need to say it, she already knew._

 _"I know, Fred." She whispered softly, moving her hand to lightly touch his cheek._

 _He left out a sigh of relief. "Well, good," he gathered her up in his arms and pulled her close before letting sleep overtake him once more._

Too many memories engulfed her here, constantly vying for her undivided attention. It was inescapable. She couldn't help but play back each one with a sort of reverence. It hurt more than words could express, but it meant she could deny it a little longer.

Harry Potter felt they'd lost too much. Far too much. It weighed on him heavily. Maybe if he'd just done something sooner-

No... He'd done the best he was capable of. It was just hard to remind himself of that when bodies surrounded him. He was still lingering near the Weasley family. He didn't want to intrude on their private grieving, but he wanted to apologize to Fred before they carried his body out.

The Weasley clan was slowly moving away from the body on the floor, coming together to huddle in a tight knit little group.

Harry took that as his chance and quickly slid in to kneel next to the suddenly small and frighteningly pale boy on the ground.

Fred deserved to live. Harry knew that perfectly well. He would never forgive himself for the loss of a person who gave everyone such laughter and happiness.

He would never forgive himself for leaving George alone.

As he grieved over this and apologized profusely in his head to Fred, hoping the boy was somewhere and could hear him, his hand came upon something on the ground that wasn't the cold stone floor. It was a shiny piece of white parchment laying right next to Fred's pocket.

Harry picked it up and flipped it over.

His heart stopped as he saw the other side.

It was a wizarding photograph.

In it, Harry watched as his best friend, whose arm was around Fred's waist, laughed at something the red head said before pulling him in for a kiss.

He felt sick to his stomach. He'd just let her go. She'd apparated away and he hadn't bothered to try and find out why. He just assumed she had needed to get away from all of the bodies. Which, in a way, she sort of did. Except she was only concerned with one of the many causalities.

"Harry!" Molly Weasley's distraught voice sounded from somewhere behind him.

Harry hastily pocketed the photograph. Clear as to what it must mean, but thoroughly bewildered and shocked just the same.

 _"Hermione, come on! Just be serious for a second."_

 _"Oh that's rich coming from someone who just created a swamp in the hallway."_

 _"You're just jealous you didn't think of it first."_

 _"Huh! I am not!" Hermione stuck her tongue out at him before playfully waggling her eyebrows at the camera he had levitated to point in their direction._

 _"Fine, you're not." He said with a smug grin. "Oh, and did I forget to mention that I slipped some puking pastilles into her sweets drawer?" He knew this would garner the reaction he was looking for._

 _"You did not!"_

 _"I did"_

 _*click*_

 _Throwing her head back, Hermione let out a huge laugh before kissing him firmly on the lips, wrapping her arms around his neck to bring them closer._

Hermione peeled her eyes open slowly, it was still light out, the evening sunlight streaming in through Fred's red and gold curtains. The first time she'd seen them, she had hated them.

 _"I'll say it again- that's so tacky." Hermione laughed slightly as she studied his room, specifically the garish red and gold curtains hanging over the window. She'd never get used to the shock of color each time she walked in._

 _"What?, i'm just showing some house spirit." Her mind quickly left his choice of decor when he swiftly grabbed her around the waist, picking her up and tossing her onto his bed._

 _"Now then, are you sure you want to be discussing my impeccable eye for design?"_

 _She giggled (a very un-Hermione thing to do-Fred was proud to have brought it out in her) and shook her head, pulling him down onto the bed to join her._

 _They awoke the next morning thoroughly satisfied and had a lie in, just holding each other and talking._

 _George was not due back until the next day. He'd been staying at Angelina's for the past 7 days. It was one of the few times Fred actually relished being separated from his twin for so long._

 _Eventually, they were forced to leave the safe haven of the bed in search of food. Of course, Fred was absolutely terrible at cooking, so, after the first batch of burnt... something or other, Hermione took over for him._

 _"So you're supposed to be at the burrow when?" He was leaning up against the counter lazily, clad only in his boxer shorts, watching her cook._

 _"Well Ron invited me to come a week ago, I think I've put it off for as long as possible. Your mum's been threatening to come to my house and fetch me."_

 _Oh yes, he knew, he'd staved her off from doing just that twice now. Oh, But what a week it had been._

 _"You're sure you can't put them off any longer..." He knew he sounded whiny, but he didn't know when they'd be able to see each other- really see each other- again._

 _"Fred, have you ever actually met your mum? You're asking for the impossible." She plated one of the poached eggs before starting on another, "besides, Harry will be there soon too."_

 _He nodded sadly. He didn't think he could keep his twin away either. He'd already extended this little vacation twice. George wouldn't stay away without knowing why any longer than he already had._

 _Fred straightened, walking up behind Hermione and hugging her around the waist, his head coming to a rest on her shoulder._

 _"You're really not helping me to cook here," she said in an amused voice._

 _"I really wish you didn't have to go."_

 _He said it with such sincerity, her breath caught in her throat._

 _"I really wish I didn't have to go," she breathed, barely above a whisper._

 _He backed them up, kissing her neck. He started gathering the fabric of her t-shirt. Actually, technically it was his t-shirt, which made the whole thing much hotter. He'd pulled it halfway up her body when she pushed away from him, yanking the shirt down as she did._

 _She looked absolutely mortified and Fred, for the life of him, couldn't figure out why._

 _Every time he'd tried something with her during the day this week, she'd come up with some excuse to get away from him._

 _"What's wrong?" He was suddenly very concerned that he had done something to upset her._

 _" N-nothing. I just. I just really don't want you to take off my shirt."_

 _That was not the kind of reply a guy wants to hear from his girlfriend._

 _"Oh..."_

 _"No!" She shouted, realizing her misstep. "I mean. I... I don't know what I mean," she trailed off miserably._

 _He could see something bigger at play here and he took his time in approaching her again, not wanting to make her feel pressured._

 _"You know nothing you say could possibly change anything, right? I'm in this 100%"_

 _He'd been so nervous to show her how he felt in the beginning._

 _He'd never been nervous about the commitment. It was probably from watching his parents over the years, but he truly admired their commitment to each other. He had always wanted that with someone and it didn't take him long to realize that that someone was Hermione Granger. No, he'd been nervous about coming on too strong. Then he realized she was about 10x more nervous than him about it and suddenly he felt much better about speaking his mind. Telling her over and over again helped to convince her he was genuine. And he was. Completely._

 _She still looked apprehensive about whatever it was she was keeping from him, but he saw the moment she decided to tell him anyway, her eyes shining with defiant determination._

 _"I was hit with a really nasty curse at the department of mysteries last year."_

 _Out of all of the things he thought she would say, this was absolutely nowhere on the list._

 _"Uh... I knew that Hermione. Dolohov, right?" He didn't have to ask, he'd had that name firmly burned into his brain for weeks now. Hermione didn't know, but Fred had been to the hospital to see her immediately after it happened. Before she had even woken up. He didn't like thinking about it, actually._

 _Hermione grimaced, "right," she paused again to regain her bearings, "well, you know that the curse Harry was hit with as a baby left a mark, right? Well, so did this one."_

 _He knew that already too. Ron had told him that at the beginning of the summer. Not to mention, despite the darkness of his bedroom, he could still feel the mark on her skin each time he was with her. He just hated that he hadn't been there to stop her from getting hurt._

 _"Hermione, I know that too. So what's the problem?"_

 _He had to strain to hear her next few words they were so quiet._

 _"I don't want you to see it."_

 _He suddenly had the violent urge to go find this Dolohov and rip him to shreds. That vile pathetic excuse of a creature._

 _Did Hermione think he would no longer find her attractive? That wasn't humanly possible. She was so much more than her skin._

 _He held his arms out to her and she hesitantly came closer._

 _Once again, he pulled at her shirt. She made some very feeble protests at it, but didn't put up to much of a fight._

 _He stared at the scar. It dissected her whole torso, still purple and angry looking._

 _"Bloody hell."_

 _She immediately mistook his anger for something else, backing away from him as if he'd burned her._

 _"No! Hermione," he swiftly moved to her, trapping her between the counter and his body. "You are still the most beautiful woman in the world to me. A silly scar isn't going to change that. In fact, all I see is a mark of your bravery." He slowly traced a hand up her stomach, following the scar. She shivered into his touch._

 _She finally felt able to let go of her fears and ghosts, letting her guard down for him._

 _"I'm just so upset with myself that I wasn't there to help you. All of you. If we hadn't left you guys..." he'd really been struggling with that lately._

 _"Fred, that would've done more harm than good. I would have had to worry about you the entire time. Maybe the curse would've killed me instead."_

 _Fred couldn't suppress a completely different kind of shudder at that thought._

 _Their last day alone together before Hermione went off to the Burrow, and then to school again, was spent in bliss. Their breakfasts were completely forgotten as they got lost in each other instead._

It was all becoming too much for Hermione as she lay there on his bed. She glanced once more at his nightstand. She was surprised to see he'd kept his old dorm room clock. It was still broken and still read 1:58. she got pulled into another flashback, and she wasn't sure she could handle this one.

 _Hermione lay next to him. It was the middle of the night, but she just couldn't sleep. She could hear the sounds of Fred's roommates snoring in the other beds, but she knew the silencing charm she had place around the bed prevented them from hearing her, so that wasn't the problem. There wasn't really a problem, per say._

 _She just really liked watching Fred Weasley sleep._

 _It was a little weird to say that, but true nonetheless. He just looked so peaceful and content._

 _These were some of her favorite moments. It was like time stood still just for her so she could memorize every detail and line of his face. She wished they could stay like this forever- perfectly content, without intrusions from the outside world. Unfortunately, she knew very well that a war was looming, and she didn't know how long she'd have with Fred before they would have to fight. So she cherished these brief moments._

 _It was on this particular night, at 1:58 a.m. according to the little red alarm clock next to him, that it really and truly hit her._

 _She loved him._

 _She well and truly loved him._

 _She wanted to remember it. Remember the exact minute she knew. Irrationally she thought of the little clock. As quietly as possible she reached over his tall frame, trying to reach it so she could stop it, Saving that moment in time forever. Fumbling to hold it and her wand at the same time, she felt it slip through her fingers, hitting the floor with a loud crash._

 _Fred sat up bolt right. He wildly looked around for the source of the noise as his eyes came to rest on the small girl in front of him. She was clutching his alarm clock to her chest. The thing now had a large crack right down the middle._

 _He burst out laughing at her as she sheepishly tried to explain her intentions without using the word 'love.'_

 _Eventually her heart stopped racing. By this time, he was already back asleep , his hand resting in one of hers._

 _These were the moments she would never forget._

 _She loved him._

 _She knew he loved her._

 _She could hear it in the silence._

Hermione gasped in as much air as she could, feeling as if she were on the verge of hyperventilating. She tried to slow her breathing and quickly realized that this room was NOT doing her any favors at the moment. She shakily stood, her legs threatening to give out beneath her, and made her way back out into the living room. She took one last glance back at all of his belongings before slamming the door shut behind her.

She only made it halfway into the room before collapsing onto the carpet, desperately clutching the "sexy" jumper his mum had knitted for him. All she could do was stare at that door, wretchedly Hoping he would walk out of it, gather her up in his strong arms, and tell her this was all some sick joke.

"Ah!" George jumped at the sight of her sitting on the floor in the middle of their... his... living room. "Hermione?! What are you..."

He quickly took in the fact that the girl was draped in his brothers jumper, wrapping it around herself like a life line. Her shoulders trembled slightly as she stared blankly at the shut door to Fred's room. She wouldn't look at him. Didn't even acknowledge his presence.

"Oh, Hermione."

He took a few hesitant steps toward her, not sure how to handle the situation in front of him. How could he help her when he was so thoroughly broken himself? It hit him so harshly what this must mean. SHE was the girl. The one Fred refused to talk about. The one Fred snuck off to in the middle of the night during their school days. The one whom he knew had slept over quite a few times, but who never stuck around long enough to say 'hi' in the mornings. It was the only time he could ever remember Fred keeping something from him, and for so long he had been very angry at his brother. They were twins. They weren't supposed to hide things from each other. Now, though. Now it no longer mattered, did it? Not when the girl hanging on by a thread in front of him looked like her whole life had been taken out from under her.

He could relate.

Crouching down beside her, he lowered his head in an attempt to catch her eye. She stared ahead, the spark he was used to seeing behind her gaze completely gone.

"Hermione..." George reached out and put his hand on the jumper.

Herm-"

"No! No, don't take it! Let me have it!" She screamed hysterically, "Just let me have it!" She had jerked back from his hand violently, half crawling, half scrambling over to Fred's bedroom door. Curling up against it, laying her head on the wood, her eyes were now shining with fresh tears. He could tell they weren't the first of the night either. Her knuckles were turning white in her effort to hold onto the unwashed, blue pullover with the yellow 'F'.

He knew Fred had loved this girl. He knew it as surely as he knew their mother would always insist on making jumpers like the one Hermione currently clung to. It was a fact. His brother had never told him that directly. In reality he had avoided the subject of a girl all together. But George was his twin. He just knew. He could see it in the way Fred's eyes would light up at the simplest of moments. He could hear it in his laugh, which had become impossibly lighter in recent months. George wondered how long. How long had his brother loved Hermione Granger? How long had Hermione Granger loved his brother? Because it was quite clear that she did. Or rather... had.

He forced himself to push these thoughts aside for the moment.

Slowly, he approached her once more. "Hermione..."

She squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to stem the encroaching tears.

"I'm just going to sit next to you. I won't take anything, I promise."

She didn't show any signs of hearing him, but when he set himself down against the door along side her, she made no move to stop him.

The grief he'd been putting off for so long was finally starting to catch up to him.

"He-" George faltered, unable to speak with his throat closing up. "He loved you, you know."

Hermione's shoulders stilled for a moment. He wondered if he'd said the wrong thing, but then she turned her head into his chest, shifting her body so it was almost in his lap, and quietly cried, nodding her head at his choked out statement.

Whenever he'd imagined these situations in the past, he always imagined grief filled howls and loud sobbing. But this was different. It hurt too much for that. Like you couldn't breath. Like you'd never breath again. It was quiet, and devastating, and unending and he never wanted it to end, because that would mean he'd accepted it. And he wasn't willing to do that. Ever.

He felt his cheeks growing wet, tears finally falling in the growing darkness of their- his... apartment.

Unable to process anything but their shared misery, he wrapped his arm around her, holding her long into the night until they'd both fallen asleep, too exhausted to stay conscious.

Hermione didn't leave the twins' apartment for three straight weeks. At first, George stayed with her, holed up in their own little world. One where Fred was still alive. Unlike Hermione, he had his mum to worry about. So on the 7th day he finally went outside.

They all worried about her. No one knew where she was. No one had seen her since she'd collapsed in the Great Hall.

His mum had the audacity to suggest that Hermione had simply run off.

He set her straight. Well, not really. But he was quick to defend the girl who was currently passed out in his brother's room from the exhaustion of crying.

George hated seeing people again. It was like they all expected something from him. He knew he wasn't acting like himself, but he honestly didn't know who he was without his twin and partner in crime. His father was pushing him to reopen the joke shop. He hadn't stepped foot in it since before the battle. He couldn't face that yet.

He went about his business, just trying to make it through each day. Some days were more successful than others. There was the day he'd actually been able to sit through an entire dinner with his hovering family. That had been good. At least to their standards. Then there had been the day he'd accidentally stumbled across the plans for one of the jokes they'd been developing before... Well, that night he'd ended up right next to Hermione, curled up on Fred's bed and breathing in his familiar scent.

It wasn't until she'd been missing for three entire weeks that Harry actually confronted him about it.

His mum invited Harry over for dinner. He and Ginny had decided to give a go of things. If he hadn't been so distracted, he might have been capable of something resembling happiness for the couple.

They'd just finished supper, all getting ready to move into the family room, with the exception of George, who quietly made his way toward the front door.

"George." Harry had followed him. "Is it alright if we talk somewhere?"

Without waiting for an answer Harry pushed past him and out into the cold night air.

They walked along the garden path, kicking at the occasional gnome along the way.

"I know." Harry started off quietly. George looked at him, not really sure what he meant by that.

"About Hermione and..." He trailed off uncomfortably, but he didn't need to say it, George understood.

"Yes." Was all he could think to say in reply.

"How long?"

"I don't know."

"Well... Was it serious?"

He chuckled, "well, considering I haven't been able to get her to leave his room for the past 3 weeks I think it's safe to assume they were."

"Oh... Then... You didn't know?"

"No. Not really. I knew there was someone. He asked me to clear out enough times that there HAD to be someone." He paused, wondering if he should say anything more, "I think they used to sneak into each other's dorm rooms when we were still at Hogwarts."

Harry seemed shocked at this. That meant they'd been together at least since the end of 5th year.

"So they were sleeping together."

George gave him a look that implied stupidity on his part and he blushed. He knew it was a dumb question, he just didn't know she'd done that. He hadn't gotten that far with Ginny...

"I... I need to see her I think." It came out sort of like a question, as if he wasn't quite sure if that was indeed what he needed.

"Ok." George would do anything to help the girl his brother had loved. He hated watching her in that apartment day after day, holding onto Fred like he was some sort of ghost. He hated to admit it, but he was also a little jealous of her. She got to grieve properly day and night. She didn't have to put up a front in a crowded room, or repeat the phrase, "I'm fine" hoping maybe saying it enough times would make it true. Saying it until it completely lost its meaning. But She also never stopped grieving, even for just a moment. It was never ending. A constant in this new reality she had created for herself.

She probably would have starved herself by now, only George forced her to eat whatever he brought back for her.

If Harry could somehow get through to her when he'd been incapable of doing so, then he could only welcome him in.

They made their way back to the lopsided house so Harry could say his goodbyes. Ginny gave him a knowing look as he joined George once more in the doorway.

So he'd told her then.

The wards they'd set around the Burrow were still technically active. It was a simple safety precaution seeing as how not all of the death eaters were killed in the battle that night. They reached the edges of the property without incident and disapparated, both landing on their feet in the darkened living room with the practiced ease of much older wizards.

Harry glanced around the room sadly, realizing where he was. George walked to his own bedroom, pointing to the one on the other side of the living room before disappearing behind his door, not to be heard from until late into the next day.

Harry walked to the indicated door. He set his hand on the door knob, suddenly terribly apprehensive as to what he might find on the other side.

It creaked open, giving away his presence immediately.

There she was.

Lying on the bed, staring straight ahead like she had the night George had found her.

She wore a tattered old Gryffindor quidditch jersey that reached her knees.

Harry sighed, feeling a bit of the devastation she was clearly projecting, rolling of her in waves. He knew words wouldn't help now. Originally, he'd thought maybe he could talk her into leaving with him, but looking at her curled up on his bed, clutching a jumper in one hand and a torn old book in the other, clearly sporting his Hogwarts jersey, Harry knew it was no use. Instead he laid down on the bed beside her, hoping she'd allow him to shoulder even a small fraction of her pain. Her eyes had been dry as he took the spot next to her, but they soon filled with tears, freely falling down her cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them away, they'd only be replaced with more.

Harry didn't think he'd ever seen someone more broken. He didn't think he could help her.

He lay there, occasionally wiping the tears away from her cheeks. They lay like that all night and long into the morning, neither of them sleeping a wink.

Finally, Harry had to say goodbye. He couldn't watch her suffer like that any longer. He found it in himself to give her a soft kiss on the forehead before quietly exiting the bedroom.

George was up, sitting at the table in the kitchen, staring blankly ahead. An untouched cup of steaming coffee lay in front of him.

Harry had lost many people in his short life. But he couldn't begin to imagine losing a twin. Or losing the love of his life. He didn't think he'd survive it in all honesty. Luckily, he knew the people who quietly grieved in this apartment were a lot stronger than they let on. They'd make it through this.

Not wanting to disturb George, Harry went back out into the living room before apparating away, bound and determined to do whatever he could to get them both the help they needed.

He had planned on telling them all at dinner the next night, but now that the moment was upon him, he didn't know if he could do it. He wasn't sure what their reactions would be. The only thing that kept him grounded was Ginny's firm hand in his own.

He stood up from his place at the table and cleared his throat, garnering their undivided attention.

"I have something to tell you about Hermione." Harry looked around at the faces gathered. The only one who refused to look him in the eye was George.

"Do you know where she is, Harry?" Mr. Weasley prompted, seeing the Boy-Who-Lived struggling to continue.

"Yes... Er." He paused not quite sure how to break it to them.

"She's at my apartment." George cut in, still not looking up from his dish.

"Wha-" Mr. Weasley started, clearly confused as to this strange turn of events.

Ron immediately cut across his father, "Is she ok?"

"Why didn't you say something sooner?!" Mrs Weasley shrieked, "we've all been worrying ourselves sick and you two knew where she was the whole time?!"

When neither of them said anything, it grew deathly silent. Everyone in the room seemed to come to the understanding that their was more to this story. They could see it on the two boys' faces.

"She loved him. She loved Fred." He said it as if he were ripping off a band aid, "and he loved her."

At first the room was too shocked to properly react, but as seconds turned into minutes, they eventually came to grips with what they'd been told. Mrs. Weasley began to cry again, something she'd successfully avoided doing in a public setting for more than two weeks.

What followed were a series of questions. They were all questions Harry just couldn't answer. He couldn't tell them why they'd kept it from everyone. He couldn't tell them how long. He couldn't tell them how serious it had been.

The only one who could answer those questions was Hermione herself and Harry had a feeling they wouldn't be answered any time soon.

The realities of the approaching war had shocked them when they finally came into focus.

He'd wandered into the hospital ward a few days after the Department of Mysteries looking lost and confused. She hadn't seen him since the day he'd left Hogwarts for good.

 _"I'm scared, Hermione." She'd never heard him sound so vulnerable. She didn't think he could be. He was always the one that was never affected by anything._

 _But she understood._

 _For the first time in their lives they had something- someone- to lose._

 _Pulling him down to her by his collar, she connected their mouths in a searing kiss, hoping to convey everything she felt for him in that one gesture. Knowing it would never be enough. She would never get enough._

 _Damning the consequences, he crawled into the bed she occupied and stayed their with her, holding her as if she might disappear at any moment._

 _For all the growing up they were doing, They both felt like frightened kids. And they both were waiting under the covers for the storm to pass._

In the end, only Hermione could pull herself out of that apartment after those first haunting weeks.

She didn't really know what made her do it. Maybe it was the fact that his smell was starting to fade from his dirty jumper. Or that each time she imagined his touch, she felt as if the ghost of the sensation were slipping through her fingers like sand. She didn't want to lose him. She didn't want to forget anything. Staying cooped up all day made it hard for her to worry about anything else. So one day, about 5 weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione walked straight out the front door into the light drizzle of rain outside the shop.

And immediately regretted it.

 _They hadn't seen each other in weeks. During the first couple months of school, Fred would sneak into the castle to see her. For the first time in Hermione's life, she was skipping classes. Every time she went into Hogsmeade with Harry and Ron, she had to come up with some excuse to ditch them. One time he'd even managed to take her back to his flat for the day. But as time wore on, Hermione became far too busy worrying about school work, and Fred became swamped at the joke shop. They just couldn't seem to find the time to sneak about._

 _But now the Christmas holiday was finally upon them. They'd planned it meticulously. Hermione had convinced her parents to let her spend Christmas with Harry and the Weasleys. She'd also convinced Molly that her parents wanted her to stick around for the first few days of the holiday._

 _George had been much harder to convince._

 _He'd given Fred a weird look when he'd been asked to clear out for a few days. Especially considering it was one of their busiest times of the year._

 _He knew Fred had someone. But he didn't realize that someone would now be spending nights in their flat. They'd agreed early on that there would be no kicking each other out under any circumstances. So George understood how important this was to Fred if he was breaking the only rule they'd set for living with each other. He just didn't understand what the big deal was. They had separate rooms. Why couldn't he just know who she was?_

 _He hadn't realized before that moment how serious Fred was about this mysterious girl. For a few days, he tried to needle it out of him, but after a particularly awkward and pathetic moment that involved Fred practically begging on his hands and knees, George relented to the demand and cleared out without further question._

 _The day she arrived it was drizzling in diagon alley. He was waiting impatiently for her outside the door to the closed shop. He searched the busy holiday crowd, craning his neck for any signs of her telltale bushy hair._

 _She spotted him before he spotted her._

 _She dropped all of her luggage right on the spot, running through the crowded streets in order to reach him that much more quickly. His eyes lit up with delight when he saw her, bringing her in for a hug that threatened her ability to breath. Though he tended to threaten her ability to breath regardless of what he was doing._

The echo of his arms around her, the smell of the rain, the beating of his heart as she laid her head against his chest, all came flooding back without remorse. She stumbled backward a bit. Taking a seat on the steps leading up to the shop. She took in a few shaky breaths, steeling herself for what she was sure would be many similar moments. Through the rain, she spotted a flash of red hair coming toward her. For a brief and utterly terrible moment, she convinced herself it was him. But as he drew closer, she was able to make out the slightly thinner features of George Weasley.

He looked shocked to see her outside of the 2 bedroom apartment.

"Hermione..." He fumbled for something to say.

"George." She looked at him with desperate eyes, unsure of what to do now that she'd ventured back into the real world.

"Lunch?" He questioned, and she nodded in relief, glad to be giving her trip into the unknown a purpose.

5 months later and Hermione had yet to move out of the flat. She was leasing an apartment only a few blocks away, but she couldn't bring herself to leave the comforts that surrounded her at the twins' place.

She also hadn't been back to the Burrow yet. Today would be the first time in many months. She'd seen each of the members of the Weasley family. Ginny had shown up soon after Harry, lying with her in Fred's room every few days. When Hermione finally got herself to go outside, Ginny started taking her out to lunch instead. It was a slow process. There were days when she just couldn't bare to leave. Luckily, they seemed to understand this, and tended to leave her alone on such occasions.

Ron had awkwardly hugged her the first time she saw him at one of her lunches with Ginny. He didn't seem to know what to say to her at first. He seemed to settle on acting like nothing had happened, a gesture which Hermione greatly appreciated. Bickering with him gave her a brief sense of normalcy in her otherwise surreal days.

Seeing Percy had been particularly hard. She'd run into him on her first venture to Flourish and Blotts. It was the farthest she'd been away from the flat. At first, it seemed as if he was going to pretend he didn't see her, starting to turn in the opposite direction when he caught her out out the corner of his eye. Something seemed to change his mind though, because slowly, he turned back around and walked up to her, looking rather unsure of himself.

"Hullo, Hermione." Percy hadn't been at the dinner in which Harry had revealed everything. He'd still been on slightly rocky terms with his parents at the time. Bill had informed him a few weeks later.

Seeing her brought back all of the guilt he'd been harboring. Her eyes were red and puffy, her skin pale, as if she hadn't seen sunlight in months. He couldn't help but feel like he'd been the one to take Fred away from her. If he hadn't been joking around in the middle of the battle...

Hermione saw the look in his eyes and immediately knew what he was thinking. On a particularly bad day, Hermione had demanded to know every detail of the battle, obsessed with discovering some way in which things could've ended differently. George had reluctantly told her how Fred's life had come to an end, and despite her desperate need to find someone or something to blame, not once did she ever blame Percy.

But she could see it clear as day that that was exactly how he saw it.

"Thank you." Hermione told him quietly, trying to keep her tears at bay as she watched his face morph into utter self disgust.

"What could you possible want to thank me for. It's all my fault." He faltered, seeming to be holding back some tears of his own. "I... I'm so sorry Hermione."

She pushed into his chest with both hands, hard, sending him stumbling backward.

"Don't you dare!" For a moment Hermione saw the resignation in Percy's face. This was the reaction he had been expecting from the beginning.

Well, he'd clearly underestimated her.

"Listen to me Percy. You have nothing to apologize for." She held his gaze fiercely, refusing to let him break eye contact, "You can blame the Death Eaters, or Voldemort, but you do not get to blame yourself. Fred would hate knowing that you do." Her voice softened as she placed her hand on his forearm, "the wall was going to fall. Nothing you could've said or done would've stopped it." She paused, unsure she could say what was on her mind. "At least... "She huffed, " at least he died laughing."

At her words it seemed the two could not stem the flow of tears. They hugged each other in the middle of the shop. Patrons and staff alike were shooting them wary glances, but neither of them paid it any mind, they just both need the brief comfort they suddenly found in each other's arms.

Bill and Charlie were among the last to pay her a visit. They were the two Weasleys she knew the least, so she didn't really expect much from them as she opened the door to their knocking about a week after she'd seen Percy.

She had just finished putting Fred's dirty jumper in the hamper. It took her about an hour that morning to work up the courage to do so, but she felt it was a necessary step now that his scent no longer clung to the garment. Besides, there were plenty of other things that still smelled of him. She was pondering this as she looked up into the faces of Bill and Charlie in the doorway.

"I'll go get George." She stated at the sight of them, turning around to go fetch their younger brother who was hiding out in his room.

"Hermione, wait!" Bill exclaimed. She turned back around to face them. "Could we talk for a second?"

Hermione was confused. They were here to talk to her?

She invited them in, making 3 cups of tea and seating them around the coffee table in the kitchen.

She didn't really have anything to say to them, so she waited for one of them to start talking.

"Um. We weren't sure if we should come to see you, seeing as we don't really know you very well, but we decided that you should know a few things." Bill started out hesitantly.

"Ok..."

"Well, see," Charlie started off this time, "Fred wrote to me quite often. I think maybe because I was so far away, he felt more comfortable telling me about you."

She looked up from stirring her tea in surprise. "He told you about me?"

"Well... Not exactly. He didn't ever tell me your name or anything. But he often wrote to ask for my advice on some thing or another. And, uh... A lot of it had to do with you." Charlie suddenly looked sick to his stomach, clearly not wanting to continue.

Bill cut in, saving Charlie from having to complete his train of thought.

"You know Fred, he didn't like to involve other people in his business. But we were his big brothers. He'd always come to us whenever he had a problem"

"He...there were problems with me?" Her voice trembled slightly. Why were they telling her this?

Bill practically jumped out of his seat, "No! no." He hastily replied. "No, nothing like that. He loved you."

Hermione was shocked to hear that so offhandedly from someone she barely knew. She never realized how obvious their love was to other people. They'd known he was in love without even knowing she was the source. It warmed her heart slightly.

"I don't think we're properly explaining this," Charlie mumbled to Bill.

"No? Ok. I suppose we should just get on with it then." He brought his attention from his brother and looked her straight in the eye. "The week before my wedding, Fred asked to talk to Charlie and I alone." Hermione perked up at this, curiosity getting the better of her. "He took us out into the gardens and proceeded to ask us some fairly odd questions. Like how I knew Fleur was the one-"

"And what type of family did we want for ourselves." Charlie broke in.

"Right. Well, it took a lot of needling to get him to get to the point, but in the end, we knew what he was asking our advice about." Bill and Charlie looked at each other once, before turning to Hermione, who was sitting on the edge of her seat.

"He was planning to propose."

All of the air was suddenly sucked out of Hermione's lungs.

"wha... what?" She felt the edges of her vision going blurry as her heart raced to keep up with this new piece of information.

"He wanted our advice on how to propose to you."

Her breath was coming in fast gulps again. She couldn't bear this. She was supposed to have the rest of her life to grow old with him. She was supposed to have little Weasley children with shocks of red hair. She wasn't supposed to be feeling this way.

She didn't deserve to be feeling this way.

She stood up abruptly, knocking down her chair in the process. Her gaze ran wildly around the room. She felt trapped and she didn't know what to do. Spotting his sweater hanging halfway into the hamper, she pulled it out before darting out of the room and back to her spot on Fred's bed, falling once more into the routine she'd vowed to put an end to.

The men in the kitchen were mortified. They stared at each other, unsure if they'd done the right thing in telling her.

"I'll go get George." Charlie half yelled as he scrambled up in a similarly crazed fashion as Hermione had moments before.

But just like before, George couldn't fix this. Initially, he'd felt shocked and betrayed that his brother had hidden such a major event from him. But then he realized how much worse it had to be for Hermione, and he pushed his selfish thoughts aside. He hadn't allowed himself to feel the grief in quite some time, always pushing it back to the far recesses of his mind, but as he lay down next to Hermione for what had to be the 100th time, he let it get to him once more. They lay their together, both silently bonding and mourning over the loss of the most important person in the world to them.

Arthur Weasley had touched her heart in a way she hadn't thought possible. Instead of hollow words of comfort, or awkwardly given hugs, when Hermione saw Arthur for the first time, he immediately disapparated. At first confused and a little hurt, Hermione took a seat in the chair in front of his desk. She'd visited him on a whim at the Ministry after she'd been there to see the newly erected memorial to the victims of the final battle. The monument had been rather contrived, but seeing his name among the many other familiar ones made Hermione crave a familiar face. Which was how she had wound up in the misuse of muggle artifacts office.

She hadn't known what to expect when she showed up at the door to his office. Maybe tears, or a hug, but not this. She continued to wait for him, wondering if he had any intention to come back. Just as she was giving up, the loud crack of apparition filled the room and he was suddenly before her again. He didn't say anything, just held out a small object he had clutched in his hand.

It was a dusty old SPEW badge. She looked at it in confusion, not understanding his gesture.

"I found it in the shed." He mumbled, looking at her with endlessly tired and sad eyes, "I think it belonged to Fred." He gestured toward it again.

She looked at it more closely and watched as the letters transformed before her eyes.

Instead of the letters she'd bewitched to spell S.P.E.W, she saw another four letter word.

It now spelled out P.U.K.E.- Pioneers for the Unabashed Kissing of an Extremely handsome twin.

It was silent in the office for a moment.

But then Hermione burst out into fits of laughter, unable to contain herself. Arthur chuckled slightly too, shaking his head at his son's antics.

She felt incredibly carefree. It was the first time she had laughed since seeing him dead on the floor of the Great Hall. She giggled more. He was managing to make her laugh from beyond the grave. Nothing could possibly make her feel better than that.

Later that night, after tightly hugging an awkwardly rigid Mr. Weasley, Hermione pulled out the old badge once more, showing it to George. He laughed so hard he fell out of his chair. It was a relief to hear him laugh again. Like some great weight had been lifted off their shoulders. They spent long into the early hours reminiscing over some of the funnier moments. Finding laughter in the darkest of times. As she smiled over at a peaceful looking George on the couch, she finally knew for sure that they would both be ok.

The only Weasley Hermione had yet to see was Molly.

After 5 entire months, Hermione still couldn't find the courage to go anywhere near the Burrow. But after avoiding the place like the plague for as long as humanly possible, Hermione was finally forced into attending a family dinner.

She apparated along side George when the night finally rolled around. But looking at the small ramshackle house, she paused. She sent George on up ahead of her, needing some time to herself.

She saw the shed Mr. Weasley had mentioned.

Even from the distance she could make out two Cleansweeps leaning up against the side. She briefly wondered if one of them was Fred's. She remembered the night he tried to get her to overcome her fear of flying.

 _*tap* *tap* *tap*_

 _Hermione quickly jumped up, silently tip toeing over to the window of the room she shared with Ginny. Fred had told her to stay up after Ginny fell asleep, but she hadn't known why. She was just thankful that Ginny was a fairly heavy sleeper and the knocking on the window hadn't awoken her._

 _She stared out into the darkness, making out Fred's silhouette as he sat on his broom, hovering just outside the window._

 _"Come on, then." Fred held out his hand to her._

 _He couldn't be serious!_

 _"Are you mad?! I'm not getting on that!" Her whispers turning quickly hysterical._

 _"Yes you are or I'll wake up Ginny right here and now and inform her that we shagged on her bed last Tuesday." He smirked at her._

 _Hermione paled considerably. "And then I'll go and inform your mum that we shagged on her kitchen table last Friday."_

 _It was Fred's turn to become white as a sheet._

 _"Right. Well, never mind about all that. I just think that maybe it's time you overcame this fear." She looked at him as if he were speaking parseltongue. "I think it'll be a lot easier if I'm there with you. You trust me, don't you? You know I'd never let anything happen to you."_

 _She looked slightly more convinced, but he knew he'd need to take it one step further- appeal to her logic._

 _"Listen, I know you told me you're leaving next week, and I haven't exactly been supportive of that, but I'll sleep a lot better at night if I know you can at least fly properly If you ever need to get out of a tight spot on the run."_

 _He knew it was sort of manipulative. He was playing on her feelings for him while also pointing out the life saving possibilities of learning to fly. How could she possibly say no._

 _"No."_

 _"Hermione..."_

 _She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "A-alright."_

 _She threw one leg over the sill, holding onto the sides of the window for dear life. He held his hand out to her once more. She stared at it, fear evident in her eyes._

 _"Look at me Hermione." She was close enough to him now to see the flecks of green in his clear blue eyes as he stared steadily at her. "You can do this. I'm right here, OK?"_

 _She nodded, peeling her hand away from the windowsill and grabbing onto his outstretched hand._

 _"That's it. Just like that." He said as she eased herself onto the broom in front of him. "See, that wasn't so hard."_

 _Then they started to move._

 _"Ah!" She shrieked before he clamped his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet._

 _"Sh sh sh." His breath ghosted over the shell of her ear. "You're okay."_

 _He removed the hand from her mouth and started to move the broom again at what felt like a snail's pace._

 _"Ok Fred. I get it. You're not going to drop me." Her heart skipped a beat as his hands left the broom, coming around her waist to hug onto her._

 _They flew around a little bit more. Hermione was absolutely positive she would never come to enjoy the feeling of flying as so many of the boys had claimed she would. Still, she thought maybe one day she would be able to mount a broom without fear twisting up her stomach._

 _"Well, now that I've got you up here, how bout we join that mile high club I've heard so much about."_

 _Scandalized, Hermione would have slapped him silly, had she not been 50 feet off the ground. It was an ingenious plan on Fred's part, really._

 _"Where In the world did you hear about the mile high club?"_

 _"That Dean fellow in your year. His mum's a muggle," his mouth tugged up into his familiar mischievous smirk, "so, I didn't exactly hear a no to that question..."_

 _"Only if you'll agree to do it on the Hogwarts Express one of these days."_

 _Fred spluttered, completely flabbergasted. She had to be joking, right? He expected to be thoroughly rebuffed for such a mad notion. She certainly kept him on his toes..._

 _"I think I love you." He said with wide eyed wonderment._

 _She turned around in her seat to face him._

 _"Oh very funny," she stuck her tongue out at him and he grabbed it between his thumb and forefinger, she huffed batting his hand away, "we both know that's been true for a while now."_

 _As he lifted them a little higher into the air, he felt her lean back into his chest._

 _He barely caught her whisper on the wind, "I think I love you too."_

When only a few weeks later, Hermione had to fly on the back of a dragon out of Gringotts, she felt considerably more secure about the whole thing. All she had to do was imagine his reassuring weight leaning against her as they flew up into the darkening sky and it took her back to that fleeting moment in Ottery St. Catchpole, dulling her fears in an instant.

Now the memory brought the familiar feeling of warmth, carrying it to the tips of her fingers and toes. but the underlying longing was still there and impossible to deny.

She quickly shifted her attention away from the shed, knowing she would have to go straight back home if she thought of it any longer.

She was startled out of her internal struggle by the sounds of crunching leaves behind her.

"Hermione, dear..." It was Molly Weasley. She didn't think she could turn around and face the mother hen.

"Hermione..." Mrs. Weasley lay a hand on her shoulder and she was forced to turn around and look the woman in the eye.

Molly's eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

"Hermione, I- I just wanted to say... I just-"

Hermione cut her off, taking a step away from the motherly figure and half turning as if to walk away, "Mrs. Weasley, you don't have to-"

"No, listen." She grabbed onto Hermione's wrists, tugging so she was facing her once more. "I just wanted to tell you that Bill and Charlie told me about what he was planning to do." Her voice wavered as she tried to choke out the rest of what she wanted to say. "I want you to know... that regardless of the fact that you were never able to make it official... you're still my daughter-in-law." Tears were now rolling down Molly's cheeks, her chest starting to erratically rise and fall. "If... If that's OK with you," Molly finished.

Hermione felt whatever semblance of normalcy she had achieved crash around her. She rushed forwarded into Mrs. Weasley's waiting arms and the two women held onto each other, the quietness of the surrounding yard unfathomably deep. After too short a time they became aware of another's presence.

"M-mum?" They heard from behind them.

Ron was looking green at the pair of them.

"Dad wants to know if you're ready for dinner." Clearly he'd heard more than he meant to, but he valiantly tried to play it off as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Mrs. Weasley hastily wiped at her eyes, gathering up her skirt to follow Ron back inside. "Of course, of course Dear. I'll be there in a moment." She gave Hermione one last look. A gaze that Hermione guessed mirrored her own- full of a pain and sorrow that few others ever had to experience.

Hermione watched all of the people around her. She didn't know How they could go about this business as usual. Everything they said, everywhere she looked, reminded her of him in some way.

The last time she'd been at one of the infamous Weasley family dinners, Fred had been beside her. The entire time he'd kept his hand on her thigh under the table cloth. It was a small gesture, but looking back, it had meant everything.

It was torture to sit at the table with all of her friends surrounding her and realize that she'd never feel his hands on her again. It was cruel.

It was cruel that she had to plaster some tiny attempt at a smile on her face, or otherwise be constantly questioned all night as to whether or not she was really, "OK." Could she not be ok for once? Why was it that whenever she went outside she had to pretend like her whole world hadn't been shattered. Wasn't that other peoples' problem? Not hers? Couldn't she be "not fine" for two seconds without all of her friends having mental breakdowns on her behalf.

She knew she was being a little harsh on them. They were only trying to help her. she just wished they'd stop. She didn't want help. She wanted him.

She watched Mr. Weasley, who was seated across from her. She could tell he wasn't fine. So why was he pretending to be? Because it made it easier on everyone else?

She shook her head, looking at his father reminded her of her own parents. With a slight smile she recalled the first time Fred had met them.

 _Bounding off the train, Hermione spotted her parents waving at her from where they stood next to Arthur and Molly Weasley. She was so happy to see them. Cedric Diggory's death had thrust a war into their laps out of nowhere, and she was terrified of what might happen to her parents when she was at school. She was a muggle born, and You-Know-Who had targeted them the last time around. She enveloped her mother in a tight hug. Mrs. Granger was slightly surprised at her daughter's intensity, but shook it off as Hermione turned away from her and gave her father a similar treatment._

 _Her boys were right behind her, struggling to pull along both their own luggage, and hers, which she had left behind in favor of reaching her parents more quickly._

 _"It's nice to see you again Mr. And Mrs. Granger." Harry said politely, nodding his head in their direction before being engulfed in a trademark Molly Weasley hug. The rest of the Weasley clan all were busy greeting each other. Bill and Charlie had both come along to pick them up._

 _Hermione glanced around, half wondering where Fred had gone off too. She didn't have to wonder much longer, as he slipped through the crowd in front of them. He stopped short upon seeing Hermione. He was fidgeting rather terribly and she suddenly had the urge to run her fingers through his hair to calm him down from whatever had him so worked up._

 _He suddenly stomped his foot, held his head high, and marched directly toward her. She panicked slightly wondering if he'd lost his marbles. It wasn't like they could say a proper goodbye with everyone around them._

 _But he didn't even look at her, instead he first looked at her mother. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Granger, I'm Fred Weasley. He bowed to her slightly whilst taking her hand in his. Hermione had to suppress a giggle at the ridiculous sight._

 _He then turned to her father, straightening his back and extending his hand. "It's- it's wonderful to meet you sir," he sort of stammered._

 _Her parents looked properly confused. They didn't really know who this boy was. They knew he was a Weasley, but they didn't know why he'd chosen to personally introduce himself. They glanced at each other before giving him a little nod._

 _Fred and the rest of the Weasleys split from the Grangers, Molly quickly herding them toward the barrier._

 _As they left, Hermione heard George say to Fred, "it's a pleasure to meet you?! Sir?!" He sounded as if he thought his brother to be confunded or something. "Did you seriously just bow?"_

 _Hermione smiled to herself, allowing her parents to lead her off the platform, unable to think of anything but the rather sweet gesture he had shown. He seemed to think it so important that he properly introduce himself. It was the cutest thing she'd ever seen._

After the typically delicious meal, they gathered in the living room. They convinced George to stay, and they all sat together as Molly and Hermione settled onto the couch, flipping through old family photo albums. She watched his life in pictures like she used to watch him sleep. It was almost as comforting as feeling the rise and fall of his chest as they had laid together each night. Almost. They were all kind enough to ignore the tears and sniffles she couldn't hide as she saw Fred's innocent features laughing up at her over and over again. Starting from when he was a mere toddler, all the way up to the more familiar man she knew from just last year. When she saw the one of him with his carefree smile and his arm casually thrown around her shoulder at Bill's wedding, She had to excuse herself.

They all discussed the picture in her absence. It was clear by the way Fred kept sneaking glances at the laughing girl next to him, that he loved her. They all wondered how they hadn't seen it before.

She returned a few minutes later, her eyes rimmed in red. She took a seat back on the couch. Eventually, the photo albums were put away and conversation turned to less taxing subjects. Feeling content for once in the company she kept, she eventually drifted off, her head coming to rest in Harry's lap.

When she awoke the next morning, it was to the smell of bacon, Fred's favorite, and she silently thanked Molly Weasley for understanding exactly what she needed.

She vowed to never again avoid the only family she had left. The only ones who made her feel as though Fred were still in the room with her.

Apparently, Harry thought 7 months was a long enough time to wait before going back to the scene of the crime. A month earlier she had decided to try and move into the apartment she was paying for, but in reality she still only spent about 2 days a week there. Everyone else acted like it was some huge accomplishment. Hermione just wondered when things would get better. Because if she had to feel like this forever, she wasn't too sure she wanted to live through it.

Anyways, Harry had shown up on the doorstep to her apartment bright and early one morning, and demanded that she come with him to Hogwarts.

She knew it was a bad idea. She'd told him so. But he insisted it would be good for her to see all of the progress they were making in the repairs.

Some part of her honestly hoped a piece of wall would fall on her while she was there, take her out of her misery and return her to Fred. It was a morbid thought but she couldn't help it.

Harry seemed to still have good enough sense to keep her away from the actual site of his death. In fact, they stayed as far away from that spot as possible for most of the morning. Everywhere she went, she would be reminded of some little insignificant moment she had shared with Fred on the grounds. Slowly but surely it was wearing her down. Around lunch time, he took her up to see what was left of the Gryffindor common room. She almost cried when she saw it. It was in pieces. The furniture was torn and parts of the wall were caving in.

"We haven't started in this tower yet..." He trailed off as he noticed the look on his best friends face as she slowly walked around the room.

Seeing this made it all too real. It proved to her just how much everything had changed.

Sitting down in an armchair she'd occupied countless times, Hermione gazed at the spot the fireplace should've been.

The flames danced in front of her eyes, temporarily hypnotizing her.

 _"Hey Granger, get your arse over here!"_

 _Seamus sure had a way with words._

 _She looked behind her where the party was in high spirits._

 _Technically she shouldn't even be there. She was a prefect after all, but when Fred suggested a party in rebellion of Umbridge's new rules, she couldn't help but say yes. Watching all of her friends and housemates having so much fun, she hoped they all were able to stay like this once the war was through. It was another reason she let it happen. How many more times would they have the opportunity to just let loose a little? How many of them would still be around to drink with when all was said and done?_

 _She spotted Seamus, beckoning her over to the table that had been pulled to the side of the room. It was covered in various drinks of varying alcohol levels. She saw Fred smiling at Lee and George as they continued their heated discussion._

 _He caught her eye from across the room with a look she knew was meant solely for_

 _her. One look was all it took for her stomach to erupt in butterflies. He winked at her knowingly before joining in on his friends' discussion._

 _She made her way over to the clearly tipsy Seamus._

 _"Here Granger." He thrust a Fire Whiskey into her hands. She stared at it with apprehension. Did Seamus know her at all?_

 _"You'd better give her a Butterbeer there Seamus, Granger's to much of a goody two shoes to drink the real stuff," he said teasingly. She had no idea where he had come from. Wasn't he just talking to Lee and George?_

 _She became indignant when she processed his words._

 _"Lay off, Fred. Hermione's just not that kind of person."_

 _She knew Ron was only trying to help, but his words needled at her more than Fred's had. Who was he to say what kind of person she was? She had nothing against drinking. She just never had any interest in participating and making a fool out of herself._

 _Seamus reached for the bottle in her hands, prepared to take it back from her, but she jerked it out of his reach and took a giant swig of the stuff._

 _It burned it's way down her throat, making her eyes water._

 _Fred was staring at her as if she'd lost her mind. Ron looked as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing, and Seamus looked impressed._

 _"Now what was that you were saying boys?" She took another swig of the foul tasting liquid, appreciating the warmness it was spreading in her body._

 _"Blimey 'Mione! I never thought I'd live to see the day." Ron's face now shared Seamus' impressed gaze._

 _She turned to Fred, who instead of looking impressed with her, actually was eyeing her in worry._

 _"I'm okay," she said to him, trying to convey that she was completely fine with the choice she had just made. His face relaxed a little bit, before flashing her his trademark grin and pulling her into him._

 _"What're you-"_

 _He started twirling them around the common room. Everyone around her laughed as she blushed, trying to pull away from him. He didn't let her go. They danced around a bit more, and Hermione couldn't help but feel exhilarated by it. It was like they were parading their secret in front of everyone, and they were all none the wiser. Starting to feel a bit dizzy, she finally got Fred to release her._

 _"I'll come find you later," he whispered into her ear, before turning back to where Lee and George sat, laughing at them. She liked to think she kept her blush under control that time._

 _Hermione made her way back to the armchair near the fire. Ginny was now sitting there with some 4th year girl discussing some wizarding band Hermione had never heard of._

 _She spent the next hour taking small sips and watching Fred command the room. He certainly was the life of the party. Him and George. Everyone they came across eagerly hung off of every word. They laughed and drank and Hermione deeply admired his ability to forget everything and just enjoy the moment._

 _They'd been officially dating for 8 months now, and Hermione wasn't in the least bit tired of him. On the contrary, she couldn't seem to get enough of his mischievous smirks and his gentle touches._

 _She rolled her eyes as he passed around one of their products. He flicked his wand and mini fireworks appeared in everyone's hands dazzling the crowd. He was such a show off. She smirked, genuinely smiling at him when he looked her way._

 _Soon she was left behind in her armchair as Ginny got up to go flirt with some 6th year. She sighed happily, fully feeling the effects of the Fire Whiskey. She slowly stood up, stretching her legs and moving a little closer to the warmth the fire provided._

 _Well I'm knackered." Fred sighed coming up behind her quietly, "wanna join me upstairs?" She jumped out of her skin at his touch on her lower back. He couldn't seriously be suggesting..._

 _"Relax love, I really am just tired. We'd just sleep, scout's honor." He was aware of how nervous she was to take that particular step in their relationship. He was in no hurry though._

 _"What about your roommates..."_

 _Well, 'Mione, there's this wonderful invention called curtains, you see-"_

 _She slapped him upside the head before shyly nodding her consent. He steered her toward the staircase to the boys dorm, his hand still grazing her lower back, slipping her up to his room before anyone could notice their absence._

 _And despite Fred's honest words, they really hadn't done much sleeping._

Hermione pulled her feet up into the armchair, coming out of her own memory.

"Where'd you go just now?" Harry asked her as he took the chair opposite her. She could see in his eyes how worried he was about her.

She pulled her knees up resting her chin on them and stared once more into the imaginary fire.

"Do you remember that party we had during 5th year? Right after the twins' birthday?"

"Ya..." He wasn't sure where she was headed with this. It had been so long ago.

"I realized I loved him that night."

He frankly shouldn't have been shocked. If they'd been so serious before the final battle, like Bill and Charlie had let him in on, then it made sense that they would've gotten together fairly early on. He just never expected it to be that early on. He'd never really thought about.

All of the changes in her that year- her penchant for breaking the rules, her sudden streak of recklessness and mischievousness- he had to wonder if he could thank Fred for that.

He couldn't let this go.

"Hermione..." She looked up at him, he was so tired of seeing tears in her eyes...

"How long..." She knew what he was asking.

"Well... Do you remember me running out onto the grounds because I saw one of the twins scaling a wall outside the window?" He searched his brain for that day. "It was a day or two before your final task. You'd just mastered that compass spell..."

He remembered. She'd come back looking flustered. When they questioned her about it, she just said that she'd gotten into a fight with one of the twins. They'd left it at that.

"That's a long time, 'Mione." And it was. It was longer than he and Ginny had been together. He struggled to process this. Even if he counted the months he had crushed on Ginny and the months since Fred's death, they still were together for a good year longer. He couldn't even fathom losing Ginny. He finally got a glimpse of what it must be like for her. Godric, they'd been together since the start of the war. Voldemort had returned only a few days later.

She nodded her head. "Yes it is."

He wanted so much to ask why they hadn't told anyone, but he didn't feel as if that question held a place in their current situation, so he let it go.

"I just can't imagine you with such a prankster and rule breaker." Thinking back, he guessed he could. They brought out the best in each other. She got him to tame down a bit and he got her to loosen up.

She threw her head back laughing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her laugh. This time her tears were not from her despair. "Ya, who woulda thought, eh?"

They sat their for a few minutes more, her clearly caught up in some distant memory.

 _"I want to help you pull a prank."_

 _Fred thought those might just be the sexiest words he'd ever heard in his life._

 _His eyes widened, taking in her furious countenance. He knew not to argue with a face like that, not that he particularly wanted to in this case._

 _"Ok."_

 _"She's just gone to bloody far! That horrid toad can't get away with this!" She was working herself up into a proper rant. "I can't believe how low she would stoop, carving words into people's hands!"_

 _He had been pondering kissing the rant out of her when his brain caught up with her words._

 _"Wait, Umbridge? She carved words into someone?! That has to be illegal!" He couldn't imagine taking a knife to someone's skin being a ministry-approved punishment._

 _"It's so much worse than that though Fred,"_

 _Really? because he couldn't imagine how it possibly could get worse._

 _"She has this special quill. She makes you write lines with it, but instead of using ink, it writes using the blood from the back of your hand."_

 _Fred shuddered, suddenly sick to his stomach._

 _A horrible thought occurred to him._

 _"She didn't-" he pulled up her sleeves, sighing in relief at the unblemished skin there._

 _"No, not to me. Besides, the wound heals itself each time you cut it in." He gave another involuntary shudder. It sounded barbaric to him. "No, that's what she made Harry do all last week during detention." Her face had once again taken on a look of utter revulsion and anger._

 _He had to admit, the more she talked, the angrier he got too._

 _He focused his mind on coming up with the greatest prank he could think of, knowing that this one would be particularly satisfying._

 _"So what did you have in mind?"_

 _Her eyes shone with malicious glee as she launched into an explanation. He would never tell her this, but he could've shagged her right then and there._

 _"Well..."_

 _3 days later found Hermione and Fred sneaking around the castle in the middle of the night. It wasn't the first time she had broken curfew, but it certainly was the first time she'd done it for purposes such as these._

 _"This is a brilliant idea, i can't believe you came up with this."_

 _She gave him a challenging smirk, "better watch your back Weasley, you see what happens when someone upsets me."_

 _Fred knew all too well. He'd learned about her keeping Rita Skeeter in a jar over the summer hols. Now this? She was utterly vindictive when someone crossed her and he loved it._

 _He couldn't wait to see the look on Umbridge's face when she saw this..._

 _Later the next day, no one thought to question know-it-all goody-two-shoes Hermione on why Professor Umbridge suddenly found her office to be filled with barking puppy plates, or why all of her proclamations had suddenly transformed into passages from wizarding law about the protection of other species, or why the High Inquisitor couldn't enter the Great Hall without dancing and bursting into song. Nor did anyone bother to ask Hermione where the sly grin came from, or why she didn't bother anyone about homework or studying for the entire day. No one thought anything of it. Because, obviously, everyone knew Hermione would rather die than break a rule..._

Harry clearly sensed her need to get out of their old common room, for he sent her off to help repairs on the outer part of the castle.

Reluctantly, she made her way outside and around the side of the castle. Harry led the way, weaving through various pIles of rubble.

"Well it's the wall right around the corner," he said, pointing in front of them, "I need to go check on a few things. I'll be back in a few."

Harry turned back the way they came and headed inside.

Hermione did as instructed, dragging herself around the corner to start working.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw where he'd unwittingly sent her.

 _"Fred, what in the world are you doing? You'll kill yourself!" Hermione shrieked, running up to the figure scaling down the castle wall. When he was low enough for her to reach, she yanked him down, grabbing onto his collar, "What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?! Are you mad?!"_

 _He rolled his eyes at her, a bad move If there ever was one. "Relax Hermione, I used a modified levitation charm, I wouldn't have fallen."_

 _"Ugh! I can't BELIEVE what an incredible prat you are! What if your charm had worn off? What then?!"_

 _He wasn't sure why she was so concerned with his safety all of a sudden, he'd done countless reckless things in the past. This didn't even crack his top ten._

 _He quickly tried to think of a way to divert her attentions._

 _"Look up" She did, and their shoulders brushed slightly as she tried to make out exactly what he was trying to point out to her. What looked to be a giant red scroll was attached to the side of the castle wall, facing the maze for the final task._

 _"What's-"_

 _"It's a banner. For Harry. We figured with all the bad mouthing people are doing about him, he deserves a little pick me up. It shoots off fireworks too!" Fred looked extremely proud of their feat. Hermione had to admit, it was a rather sweet thing to do._

 _"That's... Really quite nice, but it's still breaking the rules, Fred. Harry would like it just as much if you got him a normal banner. I mean really Fred, how many times do we have to go through this. It's like you WANT to constantly get into trouble. Are you honestly looking forward to more detentions with McG-"_

 _He kissed her, effectively cutting her off._

 _Her mind shut down momentarily, her body becoming rigid in the arms that were suddenly wrapped around her._

 _Her brain finally kicked into gear, prompting her to respond very enthusiastically._

 _Both of them were a little surprised at the intensity of the kiss. Hermione had only ever been kissed once and it paled in comparison. By far._

 _Fred had kissed a few more girls in his time, but nothing like this. They felt as if the fireworks he'd set to explode had somehow wound up in their bodies._

 _She never wanted it to end, and when it finally did, she let out a small groan of discontent._

 _Her eyes grew wide as she realized what they had just done._

 _"What was that for?!" She shoved at him a little._

 _"I dunno, I just felt like it."_

Hermione remembered the moment well as she started repairs on the very wall the banner had been hung from. Kissing her in the middle of a sentence was just such a Fred thing to do. Not a day went by where she didn't miss those rude interruptions. After that first one, She had only lasted 2 days before searching him out and kissing him again. He'd been the shocked one that time, but he hadn't questioned it.

It had only spiraled from there.

Suddenly very angry, Hermione flicked her wand harshly at a pile of stones, sending them cascading into the side of what was left of the building, taking out another few feet of wall with it.

He'd told her he loved her. That this was forever. So why did he leave her?

She thought of all the times he'd whispered things in her ear. Things meant for just them to know. How many times he'd promised her a future. It was exactly 2 years after that first kiss that he'd made his promise more official. It was cruel that she was left here to deal with everything. That she was left behind.

She tossed another pile of rocks with her wand, this time sending them through the gaping hole in the wall and into the castle.

"Hey! Hermione, are you mad?!" Harry jogged up to where she stood breathing heavily, hair flying about her face in the blustering wind.

He paused upon seeing the twisted and dark look on her face.

"Uh. Hermione..." He slowly approached her, both hands out in front of him in a placating gesture, "maybe it wasn't such a good idea to bring you her."

His words broke through to her, somehow getting passed all of her anger and regret. She lowered her wand. He wasn't sure which he hated more. The look of hate in her eyes he'd seen a second ago, or the look of pure unadulterated agony she was now sporting. She heavily leaned on him, as if he were the only thinking keeping her standing- which he probably actually was.

Before someone else came running over at the commotion she had caused, Harry apparated them away, back to her apartment.

10 minutes later they were sitting on the couch ignoring the cups of tea Harry had made for them.

"We were going to move in together, you know." She stated this casually, as if it were simply stating the weather, "we signed the lease on this very apartment right after Dumbledore's funeral."

Harry didn't know what to say. A small part of him came back to the question of why they never felt they could tell anyone. It didn't really matter anymore, he just wished he could be of more help now. It killed him, seeing her heart so thoroughly broken. It made him feel even more guilty, although she had already firmly told him he was a dunce for thinking such things.

It was in the past now, and he couldn't change it anyways, the only thing he could do was try to comfort Hermione in the present. A Herculean task.

But he had to try.

"So Harry, how's the Auror training going?"

Ron and Harry had both signed up for the training a few weeks after the final battle. They'd decided not to go back for an 8th year at Hogwarts, and took the diploma that was offered to all of the war veterans who'd missed out on their seventh year. Hermione had done the same. Not because she no longer desired to learn, but because she knew there was no way she would be able to go back to that place after everything that had happened. There was no way she would ever be able to walk among throngs of students in those hallowed halls ever again. It would just remind her of everything she'd lost.

She hadn't taken on auror training though. Again, she knew she wouldn't be able to handle it. At least, not right away. She also wasn't sure if that's what she wanted to do. Instead she'd set aside the year to try and heal. 8 months in and she was starting to think she'd wasted her year. It didn't seem to her like much had changed. She still felt empty. She still never went a minute without being reminded of him. The most she could say was that she'd managed to go outside and interact with people again. Certainly a step up from where she'd begun.

"Oh it's been great, I can't get over how much work it is. I'm learning loads," he smiled over at Ginny who was sitting next to him at the lunch table. "I wouldn't have gotten this far without Ginny. She's been helping me study every night."

Hermione grew sad for a moment. She used to be the one to help him with that kind of thing. She felt as if her friends were moving on without her and she was forever stuck in one terrible moment in time.

She faked a smile at him. She was sincerely happy that he'd found something he loved to do. It wasn't her fault if her mouth rarely naturally curved up anymore.

She watched Harry and Ginny closely as they carried on the conversation without her.

She tilted her head to the side, observing the way Harry now looked at Ginny as if she'd hung the moon and the stars. It was these little moments they would look back on fondly one day.

And she understood now why they all lost their minds and fought the war. It was for this. It all came down to love. They'd been fighting someone who wasn't capable of it. Which was why he'd ultimately lost. They all had something worth fighting for. Harry had that with Ginny. Hermione could see it clear as day. She was so happy for them, but at the same time, she couldn't help but think about what she had been fighting for. A tear silently slid down her cheek as she realized he had probably been fighting for her as well when he died.

Harry noticed the tear sliding down Hermione's cheek and looked to Ginny. They still didn't really know how to handle these moments. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and plowed on straight through as if nothing were wrong. As if maybe by pretending, one day it just might be true.

Hermione was having a bad day. There was nothing in particular about this day that made it different from any other day. It may have been the fact that Fred's birthday had been the day before.

Resolving to all be there to celebrate, the Weasley clan, Harry, and Hermione all surprised George with a party. As much as they tried to make it a joyous occasion, everyone could see how bad a day it was for George. It wasn't the best of days for anyone really, but they all pretended. Pushing through it for lack of a better thing to do.

Maybe that was why she had followed George home that night. She had been slowly but surely spending more nights in her own apartment. She was up to about 4 nights a week (though that was a generous estimate). Either way, she'd been planning on going back to her own apartment, but on a sudden need, she'd ended up back in his room again. George didn't say anything, even though he knew she hadn't planned on coming over.

That was how things worked between them. They comforted each other just by being there. No words necessary. In fact, they were tired of words. They'd grown extremely close over the past months, Hermione didn't know if she would've been able to make it this far without him and, although he never said so, she had the feeling the same went for him. They didn't expect anything from each other. Everyone else always seemed to have these expectations of what needed to happen next. Only the two of them understood that it didn't work that way. There was no clear set path that they must take. She didn't have any expectations for George to open the joke shop back up. He had no expectations for Hermione to stop sleeping over. It worked for them. No pressure. No judgements.

Either way, when she woke up the next morning, she found herself in his bed, and for a brief millisecond, she actually forgot he had died. It was the best moment until reality barged its way into her brain. For some reason, she couldn't pinpoint why, but she felt particularly awful that day.

She searched through one of his drawers, which she had filled with his unwashed clothes. She pulled out a dress shirt, she recognized it from Bill and Fleur's wedding.

She pulled off the party clothes she'd slept in and slipped on the garment, slowly buttoning it up.

That was how George found her the next day. He didn't need to ask why. He just understood. He'd had enough bad days to understand. So he left her there, wearing naught but his brothers year-old unwashed laundry. He'd never admit to it, but sometimes on the nights Hermione wasn't around, he would sneak something out of the drawers she'd set up. He currently had one of Fred's favorite t-shirts balled up under his mattress.

Hermione laid there all day; not bothering to eat, barely bothering to breath.

She rolled over, making herself a little more comfortable, and heard the crinkling of something in the pocket of the shirt she wore.

It was a piece of parchment, carefully folded into a neat little square. She opened it up, eyes brimming with tears as she saw his messy scrawl staring up at her.

Under normal circumstances she would've called his handwriting incredibly messy, but she could tell he'd taken time and care in writing this.

At the top, crossed out in thick black ink, she could make out the words "proposal ideas"

But underneath, his original project had clearly been abandoned in favor of a letter. A letter addressed to her.

She held it to her chest, not sure she wanted to read it.

Making a quick decision, she screamed loudly for George, knowing she couldn't handle this on her own.

He came bursting into the room a few seconds later, a wild look in his eyes and his wand drawn, clearly thinking something to be seriously wrong.

"What happened?!" He searched the room frantically for the Death Eater he'd been battle trained to look for, but the room was empty.

Hermione held up the piece of parchment for him to see.

"I... I found this in his pocket." She looked down at the paper in her hands bringing it to rest in her lap, "it's addressed to me."

George could just make out his brother's handwriting from where he stood in the doorway. He sat down heavily where he was, not bothering to move further into the room.

"I need- will you stay?" inquired Hermione.

He nodded to her, leaning his head up against the door frame.

And Hermione began to read.

 **Dear Hermione,**

 **I don't know why I'm writing this. I reckon it's to do with what happened today. Clearly this paper was meant for something else. I'm planning on marrying you, ya know. But then the ministry fell and Death Eaters crashed the wedding, and you disappeared without a trace. I think it's finally hitting me that we may not get our happily ever after, 'Mione. So I'm writing this in case I die. I know. I know it's morbid. If we end up married someday I imagine I'll show you this when we're a good 120 years old, growing grey and sitting in our rocking chairs. But if something does happen to me during this bloody war, I want to make sure you know a few things.**

 **The first is that I love you. I know you already know that, but I felt it deserves to be put in writing. Preferably in big capital letters: I LOVE YOU HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER. There, I said it again.**

 **The second thing I wanted to tell you is that Easter Hols your third year... It was me who stole all of your textbooks and it was me who tied them to a goal hoop in the Quidditch pitch. I just thought you were studying far to much for any healthy person. Sorry bout that. Sort of.**

 **Whooo (wipes forehead dramatically) glad I got that one off my chest!**

 **The last thing you'll probably roll your eyes at, seeing as by the time you read this we will have children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, but, if I do die, I want you to live. I know. It's sounds corny. I'm fully aware of that. But it doesn't make it any less true. You can be sad for losing my incredibly charming face. You can even be angry with my sorry arse for leaving you (which you should know I would never ever do in a million years if I could possibly help it). But if I do die tomorrow, I want to die knowing you'll be ok without me. The worst image that keeps popping up in my head is of you barely living at all, just mucking through life as a depressed old spinster. I know you well enough to know that logically, that could never happen. You're far too strong. But it doesn't stop that image from haunting me every time I put myself in a dangerous situation. So instead, I'm telling you to live.**

 **Grieve for me. Then get out there and conquer! You are a beautiful talented witch with so much to offer the world, please don't let anything get in the way of kicking ass and taking names.**

 **And laugh. Making you laugh has always been my favorite past time (right beside pissing you off). The world would be a dark place without your beautiful laugh.**

 **I'm holding a picture of that day your 5th year when I told you about all of the things we'd done to Umbridge. Do you remember? You probably don't, but it's my favorite photo of you because in it, you're laughing. Every time I look at it, I think maybe things won't turn out so bad. Maybe we've got a shot. As long as you never stop laughing.**

 **See, I'm fully convinced it's that laugh right there that makes the world go round. Point made.**

 **Please live your life Hermione. Know I'll always be by your side no matter what, even if it's not physically.**

 **I know this all seems ridiculous, but I don't want anything to happen to me without being able to give you a few last words.**

 **So here they are: proud, nefarious, lovable (me), alluring (you), know-it-all (also you), insufferable (probably what you think I am at the moment), and cheese.**

 **Oh! And: pudding.**

 **Ok, ok, I'm kidding.**

 **With all the love I possess and more,**

 **Fred**

 **P.S.**

 **Please look after George for me, will you. If I'm gone, I don't want him to think he can just slack off, the lazy arse. Make sure he puts more laughter out there into the world, for me?**

 **Merlin knows if I'm gone the world might need a bit more laughter don't you think?**

Hermione's eyes lingered on the last sentence, wishing it kept going. She looked up at George who was staring at her from his place on the floor in the doorway. "He wrote one for me too. I found it a few months ago down in the shop."

Hermione looked down at the letter once more, processing everything it said.

"What an ABSOLUTE ARSE!" She screamed, throwing the letter down onto the bed.

George quickly stood up, startled by her reaction.

"He can't write me a fucking death note!" She was tearing at her hair now, pacing around the room rather frantically.

"He wasn't supposed to die. How could he write such rubbish when he wasn't supposed to die?! How about instead of bothering to write a bloody letter, he could just have survived the damn war!" George watched on in horror as she started tearing the room apart, knocking over chairs and tossing papers everywhere. "What an idiotic bloody selfish prat!"

He didn't know how to handle this. He knew how to handle quiet, depressed, Hermione. This was a whole other animal.

Before she broke anything important, he disapparated to the first person he thought of.

George had explained the situation as quickly as possible, but apparently it hadn't been quick enough because when Harry showed up in the doorway, what he saw stopped him in his tracks. Hermione was off to the side of the room, screaming at some invisible entity as she tore apart the drawers she had once carefully organized. The window behind the bed was shattered. Harry had to wonder what she had hated so much to actually toss it out the window.

Seeing that what she was doing would only cause more distress and heartache later, Harry rushed forward, trying to get a good grip on her violent limbs.

"NO! NO! Don't touch me!" She was crying hysterically now, swinging at anything within her reach. "HE PROMISED, THE STUPID GIT!"

"NO!" she yelled, her voice starting to sound hoarse, "He wasn't supposed to leave me!" She fought with Harry as he continued to try to hold onto her.

She kicked at him furiously, just trying to break free.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME HARRY!" Maybe it was hearing her swear for the first time in his life, but Harry relented, letting her flailing body go.

She dropped to the floor, collapsing in a heap.

He tried to help her up. He put his hand under her arm to lift her, but she just wrenched herself out of his grasp. Eventually, her breathing slowed, her temper wearing itself out.

She slowly stood up, taking two moderately steady steps toward him before stumbling into his arms.

"How am I supposed to do any of this? I can't laugh knowing he'll never laugh again." Her breathing was now coming in harsh gasps as she tried and failed to keep herself under control. She looked to Harry, desperate for him to just fix this all somehow.

"How can he expect me to do all that without him?" she sobbed into Harry's robes, surely getting snot and slobber all over the sleeves. "I can't do it. It's not fair! It should've been me, why couldn't it have been me?!"

"Would you have wanted Fred to feel the way you do now?" He asked her quietly, stroking her hair with the care of a worried sibling.

She didn't say anything. She just screwed her eyes shut and buried her head in his chest.

March would be ending in a few days time. This time last year, she'd been on the floor of Malfoy Manor, getting the word 'mudblood' forever carved into her skin.

She honestly thought she would prefer a repeat of that over having another year like the last one.

Harry was talking to her still. She could vaguely hear his voice over the panic she was feeling. He'd just informed her that the Hogwarts staff had decided to host a ball of sorts.

On the day Voldemort had been defeated.

On the day Fred Weasley had died.

It was for a nice cause. He was saying. Fundraising for the victims. He was saying. Celebrating our victory. He was saying.

Celebrating the day her heart was torn to shreds?

It was to be in the Great Hall. He was saying. It was to be like the Yule ball. He was saying.

The same Great Hall she'd discovered the love of her life, cold and utterly lifeless? The same place she'd realized she would never have little red headed sprogs of her own? The place she resolved she would never return to?

He continued to talk, sounding as if he were trying to sell her on the idea. She couldn't think of anything she'd like to do less.

But...

But, she had to go. She knew she had to go.

"Have you thought about maybe bringing a date?" Harry asked a few days later.

Harry and Ron had both decided to pop by her flat for lunch.

The question shocked her. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. Likely, it would never again cross her mind. "No, I-"

"What about Krum?" Ron interjected.

"You hate Krum." She dead panned. She was beginning to become extremely annoyed.

"I know. But it's been a year... " Harry elbowed him in the stomach. Ron ignored this, along with the scowl etched into Hermione's face. He continued on, "don't you think you should've gotten over it by now? Maybe it's time to move on, 'Mione."

"Have you gotten over it?" She challenged.

"Well, no, of course not." He'd taken on that annoying habit of his where he tried to talk down to her, as if he were being a nice guy, letting her down easy, "but he was my brother..."

"He was my fiancé!"

Ron's face turned bright red. He was always putting his foot in his mouth.

"Not only that, but... we talked it all through. We talked about telling everyone. We planned to right after Bill's wedding. We talked about what would happen to us if I ended up Minister for Magic. We talked about where we wanted to live and how to break it to George that we were moving in together. We talked about having kids and sending them to Hogwarts and growing old together..." she whispered, "so how can I possibly even consider planning a future without him in it? Let alone one with someone else?"

Flabbergasted, Ron looked to Harry, who only shrugged his shoulders.

"I didn't mean-"

"Yes you did, Ronald!" She huffed, her annoyance had swiftly changed to genuine fury, "what do you think is going to happen?! That I'll just forget everything?" She squinted at him, before her expression dawned into abject disgust, "or are you hoping that I'll pick you?..."

He began to shake his head, however she did not pay his denials any mind.

"That's it, isn't it?" She poked her finger harshly into his chest. "You actually think I'll just drop your brother and come running to you?"

Ron's face turned an even brighter shade of red, if that was even possible. But he was still adamant in his denial, shaking his head firmly. He met her accusatory gaze steadily and despite her strong convictions, a brief flash of doubt crossed her face.

"No." He said, shocking both Harry and Hermione, simply because of how calm he'd remained, "I gave up on that a long time ago, 'Mione. Right around the time I discovered you were in love with one of my brothers." He measured each of his words carefully, but it was hard not to let some of the residual feelings of betrayal seep in.

"What do you mean?" inquired Hermione, for it sounded to her like quite a loaded statement. It was as if she and Harry were not privy to the whole story. She hated that feeling.

"I mean, that you've never been good at hiding your feelings, 'Mione. It became quite obvious."

"What?" she spluttered. They'd worked so hard to keep it a secret... "When did you-"

"Right after I came back."

There was a pause in which all of the air was seemingly sucked out of the room, for no one appeared capable of drawing a breath.

Harry broke the uncomfortable silence, "Ron's right. I should've known... you were acting so weird the entire time we were on the run."

 _It had been weeks. Weeks of nothing. Ron was becoming increasingly waspish, biting at them every two seconds. He claimed they didn't get it. He had a Family to worry about after all._

 _That stung. Not that she or Harry would admit to it. Usually, Hermione would've bickered with him constantly at this point, but she found herself unable to care._

 _No, more like too distracted to care..._

 _They'd noticed too. Well... Harry had noticed. Ron was far too wrapped up in his own fears to worry about anyone else's. Though, it was rather funny because they happened to be worrying over the same person. At least, in part. Regardless, Hermione was sure Harry had seen it. She had thrown herself into preparations, strategies, and books, but that could only do so much. Especially when they literally had hours on end with nothing to do. It was extremely difficult to keep her mind off of him._

 _Sometimes, she would find an excuse to get away from the tent for a few minutes, and each time, Harry's looks became increasingly concerned._

 _She had this fantasy of up and leaving. Of finding Fred and hiding out with him until the war was over. But then she would catch Harry staring at an old photo of Sirius, or Dumbledore's chocolate frog card, or even her and Ron, and she knew she couldn't leave him behind. They had to finish this once and for all. It had to be them. Voldemort had given them no other choice. She would not abandon Harry. She would not leave him alone to deal with what was sure to be an unacceptably high body count._

 _So she trudged on._

 _And then Ron left._

 _For a brief second, Hermione was actually envious of him. But then she saw the look on Harry's face when he realized Ron would not be coming back, and she knew why she couldn't have done it. Not to Harry, who had already lost so much, who everyone believed would save the wizarding world. But no pressure, right?_

 _Things had gotten harder from there. What should've brought her and Harry closer, only served to tear at their bond. Hermione became snippier, Harry became gloomier. There were brief reprieves, moments where they took comfort in their friendship, but it became harder and harder for Hermione to pretend that nothing was wrong._

 _So one day, Hermione made her usual excuses and found a quiet spot a little ways away. She tried to clear her mind and think of, really, anything else. But she couldn't seem to manage it. She found herself sitting up against a random tree, taking in shaky breaths as she tried to keep herself from crying._

 _She finally got up from her spot and trudged back to their tent, still lost in her own mind._

 _She must have been gone for hours._

 _"Hermione, where've you been?!"_

 _She jerked out of her thoughts in surprise, wiping at her face with the back of her sleeve, though she had yet to shed any actual tears._

 _Harry immediately knew something was off. He probably saw the crescent moon shaped fingernail marks on her arms, or her trembling lower lip. No, it was probably her eyes. She knew that they were shining just a bit too brightly._

 _Harry didn't seem to know what to do. He approached her as if she were some type of rabid animal. She let out a hoarse laugh at the thought, which seemed to spook him even further._

 _"Where have you been, Hermione?" He asked her again, this time much gentler._

 _She didn't answer, she just looked back at him._

 _He awkwardly approached her, putting a limp hand onto her shoulder._

 _"It's ok." he said, tentatively._

 _It was the wrong thing to say._

 _OK?! How was anything OK?!_

 _She burst into tears, and Harry leaped back from her as if she'd burned him._

 _"I-I'm sorry, 'Mione! I... I didn't mean... Of course it's not ok. We're no closer to finishing this, Ron's up and left- the GIT, you're probably tired and hungry, not to mention your parents..."_

 _It was all true. Everything he said was absolutely true. But it wasn't the complete truth. Somehow, the fact that she could share everything else with him made it easier to bare the pain of it. But the giant thing she'd always left out of their conversations was what continued to haunt her days now._

 _He seemed to realize there was something she wasn't saying._

 _"I'm here if you want to talk."_

 _It was the closest she ever came to telling him._

 _Only a few weeks later, Ron came back. She was beyond furious with him. Some of that she hated to acknowledge, probably came from that small part of envy she didn't like to think about. Mostly though, she was furious with him for what he'd done to Harry. She wasn't sure she would ever be able to trust him again._

 _It took her a few days to register his story, that he actually saw some friends and family. It took her a few days to realize he may have seen Fred._

 _She couldn't stop herself from interrogating him._

 _"So... Did you see anyone else while you were away? Friends... Family...?"_

 _"I already told you, 'Mione. I've already explained how hard I worked to find you guys again . I'm sorry I ran away, I really am, but asking me a bunch of questions won't change anything. I don't really see how this helps us move forward."_

 _She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at his ability to make everything about himself._

 _"Ya, fine, ok, but did anyone say anything to you? Maybe about your family?..."_

 _He gave her a look reminiscent of a parent speaking to a particularly stubborn 3 yr old. It was quite condescending actually._

 _"Hermione, I know I left in part because of my family, but you don't have to worry about that anymore. I know the best shot at helping them is to help Harry, so-"_

 _"Well, ya, it would take an utter idiot to think otherwise." Hermione had quickly reached her wits end, "why do you think I stayed?" she mumbled, almost as an afterthought._

 _This just served to confuse him further. "What?"_

 _"Just answer the bloody question, Ronald." she snapped._

 _He froze. His real name AND a curse word in the same sentence? He didn't think he'd live to see the day._

 _"Er... Well, Bill says Mum and Dad are at Aunt Muriel's..." This didn't seem to be enough for Hermione, who still looked at him as if his words would be her salvation. "Er... Uh, well of course Ginny is at Hogwarts now..." She huffed in impatience. He couldn't figure out what she was waiting for. "Well...um... The twins-" Hermione's breath hitched, and unwittingly she gripped onto his arm. "They're... Uh... Well, Bill is pretty sure they're with Lee Jordan. They... Er... Had to close down the shop for awhile, Death Eater raids and everything..." Despite having the emotional range of a teaspoon, and despite what many people believed, Ron Weasley was not a complete idiot. How could he possibly miss the way Hermione's eyes had flooded with relief, how her death grip on his arm slackened, how she let out the breath she'd been holding. All of it pointed to something Ron didn't want to accept. Something too crazy to believe._

 _Did Hermione like one of his brothers?_

 _Baffled by this new development, Ron decided to test the theory._

 _"It's lucky the twins made it to Lee in the first place..." He tried for nonchalance, knowing he failed miserably, but it didn't matter. Hermione didn't pay that any attention at all. His heart dropped slightly as he saw the brief panic flash through her eyes._

 _He refused to continue, partially out of some childish game. He would hurt her just a little, make her wait for it. If only because he felt his own heart breaking slightly at the thought of her wanting one of his brothers. But which one..._

 _"Ronald." Her voice came out through clenched teeth, a hiss of a sound that escaped her lips in one harsh breath._

 _"Well, Death Eaters came to the shop. Said they were there to inspect it or some rubbish." Ron made sure to watch her closely during his next few words. "They barely made it out. George had an extra packet of instant darkness powder in his trousers that he used as a diversion. Fred was hit pretty bad by some curse before they managed to get away. Of course, the only reason we know any of that is because the sham of a ministry put bulletins out on them. They're wanted. No one has seen them since they disappeared in the shop." Hermione looked on the verge of hyperventilating._

 _"He's hurt..." she mumbled, mindless of Ron's presence._

 _Must be Fred then, since George wasn't the one hurt._

 _"Bill made it very clear to me that they are both fine now. He wouldn't say where he was getting his information from, but he was extremely confident. I'm guessing we have nothing to worry about... right?"_

 _Hermione let out a deep breath, "right." And she smiled at him for the first time since he returned._

 _It took Ron a significant amount of time to adjust to this new development._

 _Hermione liked Fred._

 _It was mad._

 _He didn't realize just how mad until he got the radio working again._

 _He'd been struggling with Hermione's sudden feelings for weeks, so he was constantly working on his radio project, hoping to distract himself. One night, as he was fiddling with the knob yet again, he actually succeeded._

 _"Harry! Hermione!" He walloped, jumping up from his spot in the tent. A real human voice! It was the first outside voice they'd heard in such a long time. He was ecstatic. He'd done it!_

 _They all eagerly gathered around, hoping for some type of news. Any news._

 _He was so relieved to hear Remus and Kingsley. Familiar voices made them all feel safer somehow._

 _And then another familiar voice stole the airwaves. A voice he'd never heard on Potterwatch before. At first, he honestly couldn't tell which of the twins was speaking-_

 _"Fred..."_

 _His head whipped up. She'd only whispered it, but he guessed he had sort of been listening for it. Her eyes were wide, highlighting the various shades of caramel in her irises. She looked on the verge of tears. She looked happy._

 _She looked like a girl in love._

 _The thought hit him out of nowhere. But now that it had entered his mind, he just couldn't seem to shake it. He knew, just looking at her, that it was the truth._

 _For a moment, he wished he'd never found the station, but it only took him a millisecond to realize how selfish that made him. Not to mention, he'd been worried about his family for a while, and now here was proof that at least two of his brothers were still ok. He should've been overjoyed. He WAS overjoyed. Really. But the fact that Hermione had somehow fallen in love with his brother... It was something he wasn't sure he could handle. He remained tight lipped. He didn't want to bring attention to the circumstances. First of all, Harry was here, and although they were best mates, this didn't seem to be a subject that warranted his involvement. On top of that, even if he did say something, he wasn't sure what he would say to her. He was positive that his state of mind was not the most conducive to civilized discussion at the moment. In fact, his first instinct was to throw a massive tantrum, but Hermione would probably hex him to bits if he did that. So, obviously, in the name of self preservation he held his tongue._

 _The radio show was wrapping up. They all waited, they're hearts growing heavy with each farewell. They knew it might be months before they were able to tune in again._

 _"Uh... Hold on, er... Before we sign off, I'd like to give a quick shout out to… Well, she knows who she is…"_

 _He was clearly trying to play it off in a light, joking manner, but anyone who'd ever met him could hear the weird difference in his voice._

 _Ron tilted his head in confusion. Who was his brother..._

 _"Aww, You sap!"_

 _"Shut it, rain!" Fred cleared his throat, obviously deciding to drop his miserable attempts at levity in favor of being serious for once in his life. "so, uh... I want her to be careful and to know that I- uh... we all miss her." Their was a brief pause in which Fred seemed to recover, "Of course she'll be missing my charming face, who wouldn't, and she should know we are all doing just fine. Just fine..." He trailed off._

 _"Well, thank you Rapier for that... eloquent speech. That's it for today, everyone. This is Potterwatch, signing off."_

 _Ron looked around for Hermione, but she had already left the tent._

 _He had always assumed HE would end up with Hermione. He hated to admit to himself how much this hurt him. Maybe if he hadn't been so dumb with Lavendar..._

 _"What was that about, do you reckon?" Harry asked. Ron wasn't sure whether he meant Hermione leaving in such a state, or Fred's strange words._

 _"I don't know, mate." he lied, forcing himself to remain calm, because with a sinking feeling, he was sure he knew exactly what was going on._

Harry and Ron shared a look as Hermione sat down, the anger drained out of her.

"That's why you were so calm about everything when Harry told you..."

No one said anything for a long time.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't have said any of that," Ron stated regretfully.

She sighed, "you're right, you shouldn't have... but I'm sorry too. I accused you of some nasty things..."

Silence permeated the room.

"It took me a long time to accept it would never be us, 'Mione."

"I know."

Hermione stood in his room, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

She'd debated over and over again whether or not she should go to this ball, but now the night was upon her, she was wearing the dress Ginny picked out for her, and she was steeling herself for the inevitable.

She didn't really care what she wore. Her only stipulation to Ginny was that it be red and gold- showing some house spirit.

The last time she'd worn a dress was for Bill and Fleur's wedding.

"Hey. Hermione, do you know how to tie one of these?" George walked in, fumbling with the bow tie- part of his dress robes.

She rolled her eyes, pulling him closer so she could tie it for him.

"Wow, 'Mione, where'd you learn how to do that?" George stated, admiring her handiwork in the mirror.

 _"Wow, 'Mione, where'd you learn to do that?" Fred shot her an admiring glance after taking a quick look at himself in the mirror._

 _"Viktor."_

 _She could see in his eyes the momentary jealousy, but he quickly hid it._

 _"Oh?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _They left it at that._

 _He turned around to face her again._

 _"So... How do I look?" He did a silly turn as if modeling for her._

 _She laughed, "you look fine. Now come on, before someone comes looking for us."_

 _He grabbed her wrist, keeping her from moving away from him._

 _"'Mione... I don't want you to go. Stay."_

 _She knew he didn't mean just right now._

 _"Fred. You know I have to leave. We have to finish this-"_

 _"Why? Why does it have to be you? I don't give a damn that Harry is hellbent on getting himself killed, but why do you have to follow him into it?!" He'd clearly been holding onto this for quite some time. "It's not your duty to stop... Voldemort. It's not Harry's either."_

 _She ripped away from him._

 _"Who's going to do it if we don't!" She huffed in frustration. "And this has everything to do with me, so don't go blaming Harry. I'm a mudblood Fred."_

 _He cut in, scandalized, "Hermione!"_

 _"What, it's true? I am. And Voldemort is targeting people like me. I HAVE to do something. I do not want to raise kids in a world where that heartless evil bastard still exists!"_

 _She stopped, her chest rising and falling heavily._

 _"I don't want to raise our kids in that world either, Hermione. But-" he stopped abruptly, his eyes widening as he realized his slip up. "I... I-"_

 _He never got to finish his statement, for Hermione barreled into him, knocking the breath right out of his lungs as she gave him the tightest of hugs._

 _She backed away from him, drawing in a deep and resigned breath. "I don't want to go, Fred. But I'm doing this for our... For our kids, Fred. I HAVE to. Don't you see? And you trying to convince me otherwise... telling me to stay... It's not helping me do what I have to do." Her frustration was so clear, tearing at them both._

 _He knew she was right. He knew they both had roles to play in this war. Unfortunately, it seemed their roles sent them down different paths._

 _Little did either of them know, but Fred's path would end long before hers._

She shook her head, clearing her mind of that far away morning. Hermione couldn't help but think of the milestones they'd never have. The kids they'd never have. The fights they'd never have. All of the chances they'd never have...

She hastily put those thoughts away. She didn't need to fall down that rabbit hole. Not tonight.

George was staring at her. She'd never answered his question about the bow tie.

"Why did he think he couldn't tell me?"

She'd been bracing herself for this question for so long, wondering what she'd tell people. But now that George was standing in front of her, asking for an explanation, she suddenly felt as if nothing she had to say was good enough.

During their relationship, they'd rationalized the reasons in their heads over and over again. It seemed very logical and necessary at the time. But after everything that had happened, she wondered what it would've been like to hold his hand in public in front of all their friends. Now she'd never have the opportunity to find out.

"It all seems so stupid now...we should have told you. I'm sincerely sorry George." She paused to look at him before plowing on. "We thought... We thought it was necessary. At first, it was just kind of fun. We got to sneak around. It was just the two of us. We liked keeping it just for ourselves. But after Voldemort started attacking people again... torturing, people for information... Well, I think, for me at least, it became more about protecting each other. We didn't ever want to be used to hurt the other. I just always had it in my mind that Voldemort might go after Fred if he knew I loved him. It was dumb. But love often makes you irrational I guess."

"I think Fred was afraid of losing you." George broke in, wording himself carefully, "I think that's why he never told me."

"What do you mean?"

"I think he thought if everyone knew, they'd all wonder how he'd ended up with you. Many people didn't really have very high opinions of us, you know. Sure, we were popular, but no one thought us really capable of taking anything seriously-"

"That's not true!"

"Maybe not. But I know that's how we both were feeling during the lead up to the war. I think he thought people would wonder why you were with him. You- the beautiful and intelligent 3rd of the golden trio. I think he thought after awhile, you'd start to wonder too."

"But that's- that's just insane" Hermione spluttered, not believing the words coming out of George's mouth.

"Yes. It is. But it's like you said- love makes you irrational."

George nodded to himself, as if finally forgiving his brother for keeping those secrets.

"Now. Come on then, we've got a ball to attend." He extended his arm to her, leading her out into the living room where his date was waiting.

"Hello, Hermione" Angelina Johnson stood from her spot on the couch and came over to them.

"Hi." Despite Angelina being best friends with the twins, Hermione had never really known her well. She sometimes wondered if maybe they could've been close if things had turned out differently.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, Ange. Well, let's be on with it then" George took Angelina's arm with his free hand and they disapparated as a group, landing with eased practice in front of the Hogwarts entrance.

Suddenly Hermione was regretting this little excursion. Very much so.

"You guys go ahead. I'll be in in a second."

She was too busy panicking that at first, she didn't see George's face turning incredibly pale. She looked at him, taking in the shaking of his hands and the glistening of his eyes.

"Angelina... Why don't you go see if you can find Katy or Alicia. George will come in a second."

Angelina saw George's expression and seemed to understand. Reluctantly, she gave his arm one last squeeze before continuing on up to the castle without them.

"George..."

"I can't do this 'Mione."

Hermione was suddenly struck with a very guilty thought.

She hadn't really helped him at all.

She'd been so focused on herself, focused on just making it through each day. She didn't bother to think how this must be effecting him.

She was the love of Fred's life, that was certainly true. But George was his brother. His twin. They'd grown up together, shared a room, shared everything really.

She realized how similar she and him really were. They both had to wake up each morning and realize again that he was really gone. Except, Hermione thought with a sudden horror, George had to look at himself in the mirror and see his twin's face staring back at him.

Looking at the man in front of her, she realized how amazing he really was. He'd put his own sorrow aside. Helping her. Trying to prove he was ok.

He wasn't.

They both weren't.

"George. If there is anything I've learned about you over the past months, it's that you CAN do this." He wouldn't look at her. "I miss him too," her voice cracked, "I don't think I'll ever stop." She sighed, "I know it won't just go away overnight. For now, I think we just have to deal with pretending to be ok, even if we're not. But maybe someday, we finally will be."

George still refused to look at her.

"George, we can turn around right now and go home. Believe me. I want nothing more than to go back to the flat and curl up in a ball and ignore everything else. But I think we'll regret it. I'm just telling you that if you aren't going in, then I'm not going in. I can't do this without you."

He finally looked at her, his face turning green as he nodded his head slowly. They took the first few shaky steps toward the castle, each one requiring all of their combined courage.

It seemed no time at all had passed and they were standing in front of the doors to the Great Hall. They could hear loud music and laughter coming from behind the heavy wood.

Knowing it did them no good to stand outside, George resigned himself to their fate and pushed open the doors.

She drew in a sharp breath, and suddenly, she was no longer standing next to George, but a much stockier, Bulgarian named _Viktor Krum._

 _She knew everyone was looking at her. She wasn't used to such attention. She wanted to go tell Harry to pick his chin up off the floor and stop acting like a git. She made her way down the stairs, suddenly feeling very self conscious. Her arm was wrapped around Viktor's, helping her to not trip and make a fool of herself._

 _"Is that Hermione Granger?" She heard Lavender Brown whisper, "with Viktor Krum?!"_

 _"Wow, Granger cleans up good." She looked over and saw Seamus nudging Dean in the ribs, staring at her._

 _She blushed at all of their looks and smiled shyly._

 _Viktor moved them out onto the dance floor for their first dance. He was a little clumsy about it, but she hardly even gave it a thought, enjoying the gazes of her classmates for once. Usually they only looked at her if they needed homework help._

 _Too soon, the first dance requirement was fulfilled._

 _They talked a little bit as they walked around the room. Hermione enjoyed seeing all of the people having a good time. It warmed her heart to see so much happiness._

 _A few more dances later and she could tell it was time for a break._

 _"Vould you like a drink?" Viktor had been nothing but polite since he'd first walked up to her in the library. She felt truly happy she'd said yes to him._

 _"Sure."_

 _Viktor walked off to get her a drink. She spotted Harry and Ron sitting down at one of the many tables. She practically skipped over to them._

 _Immediately she sensed something was wrong. Ron was sitting with his arms crossed over his chest and when he saw her he gave a short angry huff._

 _"Hot, isn't it?"_

 _He huffed again and looked up at her._

 _"Where's Viktor." He said the name as if it were something vile tasting._

 _"Viktor's Gone to get drinks. Would you care to join us?"_

 _"No we would not care to join you and Viktor," he said venomously._

 _She did not like where this was headed. "What's got your wand in a knot?"_

 _A tense silence ensued._

 _"How could you do that to Harry?" Ron burst out, spitting as he said it. Harry, who had been staring off into space, looked up sharply at the sound of his name. He looked as if he didn't want to have any part in this particular conversation._

 _"Harry? What've I done to Harry?"_

 _"He's from Durmstrang. You're...you're fraternizing with the enemy!" He sounded as if he were accusing her of the highest of treasons._

 _"The enemy? Who was it wanting his autograph?! Besides, the whole point of the tournament is international magical cooperation. To make friends!" She couldn't believe how dense he was being._

 _"I think he's got a bit more than friendship on his mind. He's using you." He said it as if he were gently letting her down. It made her absolutely furious. She didn't know where Harry had gone, but she was now following Ron as he made to move away from her, stomping toward the exit to the Great Hall._

 _"How dare you! Besides, I can take care of myself!"_

 _"Doubt it." He replied snarkily, "he's way too old."_

 _"What? That's what you think?"_

 _"Yeah, that's what I think."_

 _She couldn't believe what she was hearing._

 _"You know the solution, then, don't you?"_

 _"Go on..."_

 _"Next time there's a ball, pluck up the courage to ask me before someone else does! And not as a last resort!" She was in tears now. So frustrated with the immature arse in front of her._

 _"Well... That... That's completely off the point."_

 _She wasn't sure what she had shouted at him at that point, it wasn't really intelligible. Harry came up to the pair and she was just so furious she sent them both up to bed. They'd gone too. Leaving her crying at the foot of the stairs._

 _Viktor found her there, she'd stopped crying, but she didn't exactly feel up to dancing anymore._

 _She allowed Viktor to bring her over to a table. It was far to surrounded by other people for her liking at the moment._

 _"I think... I'm sorry Viktor." And she really was._

 _"Vat are you sorry vor?"_

 _"I think it's time I went to bed." She wanted more than anything to just shake off Ron's words and have a great time, but it was something she'd never really been good at._

 _"Oh," he looked so disappointed. "Vell, let's go then."_

 _It was one thing for her to want to leave, but she didn't want to ruin anyone else's fun tonight._

 _"No no. You stay. I can make it up to the common room on my own."_

 _"Are you sure?" She could tell he really wanted to stay._

 _"Yes, I'm sure."_

 _He kissed her on the forehead and said good night, watching her as she weaved through the crowd and out of sight._

 _Hermione quickly walked toward the doors. She ran through them and down the corridor, but a voice stopped her right as she reached the first set of staircases._

 _"Hermione?" She came to a stop and looked around before spotting Fred Weasley leaning up against one of the columns. He pushed off of the wall and walked over to her._

 _"Why are you leaving? Aren't you having fun with Krum?" he teased. Out of nowhere a dark shadow passed over his face, "did he do something? I'll bloody kill him." He looked as if he were about to march right into the ball and do just that so she quickly put a stop to his nonsense._

 _"No, don't be ridiculous! Viktor's been a total gentleman. It's your brother you should be offering to hex." Her words came out biting and harsh._

 _"Oh, got his head a bit too far up his arse now, has he?" He smirked at her and she let out a little laugh sighing as she let go of some of her pent up anger._

 _"Definitely. He had the gall to say Viktor's using me." She was frustrated once more just thinking about it._

 _"Oh you know he's just jealous."_

 _"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean."_

 _"Oh don't give me that. You know just as well as I do that he's completely smitten with you." She did know. It was rather obvious. For a while she thought she might like him back, but with his stupidness over asking her to the ball, and then the immature stunt he pulled tonight, any feelings she could've had were quickly and thoroughly wiped away._

 _She hastened to changed the subject._

 _"As much as I'm enjoying this little chat, I think it's time I headed to bed." She turned away from him to leave._

 _"Oh no no. There's no way I'm letting such a beautiful girl leave such a beautiful night early."_

 _Hermione faltered at his words. Did he really just call her beautiful? He was just being nice, surely..._

 _"Fred, I really don't feel like dancing anymore. I just want to go upstairs, get these ridiculous heels off, and get out of this dress."_

 _"Now there's a sight I'd like to see. Need any help?" He winked at her._

 _Completely appalled she smacked him hard on his arm. "Frederick Gideon Weasley-"_

 _She only ever used his full name on special occasions like this when she was really worked up about something,_

 _"I'm kidding! Geez can't a guy make a joke," he teased lightheartedly. "I was serious about you staying though. I can't in good conscience allow you to leave in such low spirits."_

 _She raised her eyebrows at him, crossing her arms. "I'm sorry, did you just say you won't allow me to leave? I'll do whatever I please thank you very much."_

 _He quickly backtracked, "come on, just give me 15 minutes." He gave her such a pitiful and exaggerated puppy dog look that she almost broke out into laughter again. "If it pleases you," he added._

 _"Oh alright," she said, heading back toward the Great Hall._

 _"Wait!"_

 _She turned back to him impatiently._

 _"Who wants to go back to that stuffy old party? Really, Granger I think we can do better. I was thinking we'd take a walk in the courtyard." Confused, but happy to not have to return to the crowd, Hermione took the arm he offered her and walked with him outside to the courtyard. It had been decorated too. Christmas trees powdered in white surrounded them and tiny fairies lit up the night like extra bits of starlight. She could still hear the music from inside, but it wasn't so harsh and earsplitting out here. It was soft and quiet, like the feeling of silk against one's skin._

 _"So..." She started, trying to come up with something to say, "I thought you brought Angelina?"_

 _Fred chuckled, looking down at her. "Someone jealous? It's ok, I know, I'm a handsome guy. How could you possibly resist."_

 _"No." She stated indignantly. Slightly annoyed at the fact that she found his faux bravado a tad charming, "You're not the only fanciable guy at Hogwarts, you know."_

 _"You mean Ron."_

 _She rolled her eyes, "no, I do not mean Ron." She said with a scoff. He looked surprised at this statement. "Besides, you're getting off the point. I was just wondering why you were with me instead of off somewhere with Angelina."_

 _"Well, I'm not really interested in threesomes."_

 _She spluttered, looking like a fish out of water, "wha- what?!"_

 _"Well the only reason I brought her was because I knew George would never find the courage to do it himself. He mustered up plenty of courage tonight though- practically ripped her out of my arms after only the first dance." By the overly innocent look on his face, she could tell he'd done something to make his twin jealous._

 _"And now they're-"_

 _"Off shagging in our dorm room."_

 _"Oh..." She found it incredibly sweet that he would go to all that trouble to help his brother. "well what about Katy?"_

 _"What about Katy?"_

 _She was getting annoyed. She was pretty sure he was purposely acting thick to get a rise out of her._

 _"You know perfectly well what I mean. She was George's date, wasn't she?!"_

 _"Yah, but she disappeared with some Beauxbatons boy 10 minutes in."_

 _His friends sounded awfully complicated._

 _"Oh."_

 _There was a brief silence as they both searched for something to say._

 _"It's ok though, because if all that hadn't happened, I wouldn't be outside in the snow on this lovely night with a beautiful girl on my arm."_

 _He'd called her beautiful again, it made her quite flustered. "You don't have to say that," she mumbled._

 _"Yes I do because it's all true."_

 _Butterflies filled her stomach at his words. He sounded so sincere. She felt warmth spread through her as he snuck a glance at her._

 _"Why are you being so nice?" She really couldn't understand it._

 _"Nice? I never do anything unless it's what I want to do, love. And right now, this is exactly where I want to be."_

 _Her cheeks heated up at the term of endearment, but she said nothing._

 _From the distance of the great hall, they heard the voice of their headmaster, "unfortunately, nights like this cannot last forever, therefore, I must regretfully inform you that this is the last song."_

 _Had they really been out here that long? There'd been over an hour to go when she'd left Viktor._

 _"Care to dance, Milady?" He bowed to her, looking completely ridiculous._

 _"What? Here?"_

 _He looked around at the exquisitely decorated and peacefully isolated spot they'd picked. "Is there something wrong with here?"_

 _"N-no. But, we can barely hear the music..." She trailed off, she wasn't sure what she was so scared of. It was just a dance._

 _"You don't need music to dance, love."_

 _That shut her up._

 _He held out his hand to her and she shyly took it. She was surprised at the grace with which he pulled her closer, placing a hand on the small of her back and keeping his other clutching softly onto her own. He didn't even hesitate._

 _He began guiding them through the steps. She was sure it would be extremely awkward, and at first, it was. But as he swept her around, all of the thoughts crowding her mind quickly faded away, leaving only the two of them, and the glittering courtyard._

 _She felt as if they were dancing in some fairytale snow globe. She watched as a snowflake drop to his cheek and lifted her head to look up at the stars. It didn't matter that the night was frigid, the cold never even touched her._

 _For the first time in her life, Hermione really did feel beautiful. She felt as if she could do anything. Be anything._

 _She hoped it would never end._

 _Unlike Viktor, Fred's arms felt calm and steady, he moved them around with confidence she was sure he was faking, but it didn't matter, because to her it seemed they could never make a misstep._

 _He smiled at her the whole time. Not one of his cocky, mischievous smiles, but a small genuine grin. She couldn't help but think he was the beautiful one- both inside and out. His shock of red hair, his bright smile, his caring nature, his ability to make people laugh- maybe he was the most fanciable guy at Hogwarts._

 _Her own smile grew brighter as she felt a tingling wherever their bodies touched._

 _She got lost in it, enjoying this fleeting moment._

 _As the music grew softer, Fred dramatically dipped her, bringing her head to almost the floor before swinging her back up. She was pulled right up to his chest, their bodies flush against one another._

 _She lost the ability to breath, staring into his eyes._

 _And then he stepped back. With a start, she realized that the song had ended._

 _She blushed, shaking her head to clear the fuzziness that had taken over her brain._

 _She looked back up at him. he seemed lost in thought. It suddenly occurred to her how awkward this was. What had she been thinking, coming out here with him?_

 _Why didn't she want the night to end?_

 _Clearly she must be going mad._

 _"Well... Er, I guess we'd better head back in...?" Fred said this as if it were a question, as if it was the last thing he really wanted to do._

 _"Er... Yeah, I... I guess so." Her tone gave away her reluctance._

 _Fred seemingly brushed aside whatever was making him mumble and stutter, coming up and looping his arm through hers once more._

 _"How about a stop at the kitchens first? I'm starved."_

 _She laughed at his complete turn around. "Well why didn't you eat when you were fed?"_

 _"Do I look like a unicorn to you? I don't eat on command Hermione." In reality, he'd shoveled the food in by the bucketload. "Besides, I noticed you didn't eat much. I think you were just too excited or something..."_

 _He was right. She'd barely picked at the feast they'd put in front of her. It was right after the required dance from the champions, and she just couldn't think of food then._

 _She was astonished he had noticed something so insignificant..._

 _Why had he been looking at her?_

 _"I... I noticed because... because well, I couldn't take my eyes off you. H-honestly I think you look smashing tonight." It seemed his confidence had fled him again. "Really... Smashing."_

 _She didn't say anything, too dazed by this revelation._

 _"Not that you don't always look smashing-" he hastily added on, fearing she was upset with him._

 _"Relax, Fred" she said. She didn't know how she found it in herself to tell him to relax when she suddenly felt as tightly wound as a coil._

 _He let out a breath and chuckled a little at her blushing complexion._

 _Once again he was quick to recover._

 _"So, the kitchens?"_

 _She felt like she had whiplash with how quickly he recovered._

 _"Er... I think I'd like that."_

 _She had felt her stomach growling ever since he'd first mentioned food._

 _When he told her to tickle the pear back at the start of the year, she thought him barmy. But it had actually giggled._

 _He led her through the portrait hole, fingertips on the small of her back._

 _She hadn't thought about the house elves._

 _It shocked her a little. She realized that the entire time they had been talking about the kitchens, she hadn't even spared S.P.E.W. a single thought._

 _"Harry Potter's friend!" Dobby came running over to her, excitement in his eyes. "How can Dobby be of service, Miss?" Dobby's shouting at the sight of her had attracted about 20 other house elves over as well- the ones not working on something else. All of them looked eager to do whatever she asked of them._

 _It made her feel sick._

 _The one she felt OK about was Dobby. He only got paid a galleon a week, but she felt it was a small step in the right direction in a seriously horrific systemic problem._

 _"Hullo Dobby." Fred pulled her further into the room and soon they were surrounded by house elves on all sides. "Hermione and I thought we'd pop down for a bite to eat."_

 _"And to say hello." She added, feeling somewhat rude that she, Harry, and Ron had yet to visit Dobby just to see how he was doing._

 _All of the house elves immediately bustled around them, quickly producing platter after platter of delicious foods._

 _Dobby showed them over to the fire where they could sit and eat._

 _"Dobby must go now. Dobby is off of work Sir and Miss." He bowed to them slightly before darting back over to the rest of the house elves._

 _"He is a strange one." Fred muttered around the treacle tart he had shoved into his mouth._

 _She'd kept her mouth shut since entering the kitchen. So far, the house elves didn't take kindly to her direct approach whenever she stopped by. But she just couldn't help herself. She launched into a detailed explanation on why house elves deserved more rights._

 _Harry and Ron had scoffed at her when she tried it on them, not even listening to her speech._

 _When she came to an end and had talked herself out, she looked at Fred, gauging his reaction._

 _He'd listened to her the whole time, nodding occasionally. She could tell he had really been listening too. Most people just fazed her out. So that was a good sign, right?_

 _"It's not that I don't agree with you, Hermione..." Her heart sunk a little at these words. "But are you sure you're going about it the right way?"_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"Well, I saw you trying to hide clothes for them to find the other day, and it's just... I'm not sure that's the best approach. Any elf who's freed that way is bound to be tetchy about it." He glanced at her, trying to suss out her feelings. "I do agree that the wizarding world as a whole treats house elves rather poorly, but maybe talking to the elves isn't your best shot." He popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "Maybe you should focus more on changing the minds of the masters."_

 _"You mean like Dumbledore..." she said slowly._

 _"Well, ya he'd be a good place to start. You have to understand Hermione, I grew up with all of this, and a lot of people rely on house elves for a lot of their heavy lifting. It's not going to be easy to convince people that you're right. Not when a majority of the top offices own house elves. They'd lose quite a bit of money if they lost the free labor. Not to mention, it makes it so much harder when the group you're trying to free claims to like the work-"_

 _She tried to cut in, "but-"_

 _"No it's true Hermione," he said, speaking over her, "I understand they're conditioned to like it, but you won't change centuries of conditioning over night. Telling them they'd be better off free just threatens their sense of purpose and security." He stopped, seemingly finished._

 _She didn't say anything for a while._

 _"Hermione?"_

 _She sighed. "No. You're right. You're completely right," she said, "you know, you're the first person to actually discuss it with me," she mumbled in slight wonderment._

 _"Yeah. Well, it upsets me sometimes too. Especially after everything with Malfoy and the diary."_

 _They stay in comfortable silence for a few moments more._

 _"I didn't bring you up here to talk about elf rights. I brought you up here to feed you." Fred blurted out, staring at her empty plate._

 _Right on cue her stomach gave an audible growl._

 _He gave her an exasperated look before grabbing her plate and loading it up for her. She looked on amused. There was no way she would be able to eat everything on that plate._

 _As Hermione finally got some food in her stomach they started to talk about other things. They exhausted many topics, from lighthearted subjects like the rumored secret love between a certain librarian and caretaker, to more serious subjects, like the looming war. She'd even convinced him to study with her sometime on the stipulation that she would help him and George on some of the logistics for the products they'd been developing._

 _She had never had such a satisfying conversation in her life. Most of the time, people tended to tune her out. Ron and Harry did it to her all the time. Everyone saw her as a know-it-all who is incapable of having any fun. No one wanted to talk to someone like that._

 _They stayed there early into the morning, both just too content to want to leave. But as Hermione saw the sky slowly lightening out the window, she knew their time was up. Despite not being even a little bit tired, she reluctantly suggested they head to bed for a few hours sleep._

 _He looked as reluctant as her, but he relented, once more linking their arms and leading her out through the portrait hole to the sound of a hundred goodbyes behind them._

 _They made it up two floors before they were met with trouble._

 _"So I had to think of something quick or Snape would've caught me with the boomslang skin from his private-"_

 _"Sh!" He whispered to her, cutting her off mid sentence. "Did you hear that?"_

 _"Hear what Fre- oomph" he threw their bodies against a wall, covering her mouth to get her to be quiet. She couldn't focus on anything with him that close._

 _"Ooh, pretty kitty, did you find some naughty children out and about?"_

 _Filch._

 _They looked at each other. Fred was smirking while Hermione's eyes grew unbelievably wide. He pulled her along as he took off running, dragging her into one of the many secret passageways he'd discovered during his school years._

 _"Where are we?" She whispered once they were sure that Filch hadn't followed them._

 _"It's a secret passage. George and I discovered it last year when we needed a quicker path to charms._

 _"Why did you need a quicker path? Wasn't charms right after lunch for you guys?"_

 _He hesitated, looking at her sheepishly. "We may have underestimated the amount of time it would take to turn all of Snape's robes pink..."_

 _"Fred!" She admonished lightly. She secretly thought it was rather brilliant. She'd always been impressed with the complex Magic the twins used in their pranks. It just bugged her slightly that she knew they could get Os in almost every subject if they wanted to. She didn't understand why they never bothered with grades._

 _"I think it's safe." He said, pressing his ear to the wall._

 _This time, they made it all the way up to the common room without incident, though the Fat Lady wasn't very impressed with them for waking her up at five in the morning._

 _At the bottom of the staircases leading up to the dorms they both came to a halt, not really knowing what to do from there._

 _She threw caution to the wind and hugged him tightly around the waist_

 _"Thanks Fred," she said before darting up the staircase two steps at a time. She heard him chuckling softly before reaching the top and slipping back into her room._

 _"Hermione, is that you?" She immediately recognized the voice of Lavender Brown._

 _"Yeah." Hermione sighed, crawling into bed (she had no way of knowing that her one word meant she'd be spending the next week warding off rumors that she'd slept with half of Durmstrang)._

 _Climbing under the covers, Hermione thought over her night. Exhaustion quickly took hold and she fell asleep, thinking of slow dances, and secret passageways, and tight hugs, a smile adorning her features._

Hermione thought this room would be spoiled with memories of the day exactly a year previous. Hermione was so happy that her memory had served her well this time. The Great Hall looked so much like it had those many years ago. It did not have the tell tale signs of Christmas, but the tables and chairs were in the same places and a stage had been created right were it was last time. She could even see they'd recruited fairies for the night again. The people that milled about were all dressed to the nines just like the last time. Hermione let out a shaky, but happy breath as she finally took a step into the room, George on her arm.

They milled about a bit. Hermione saw so many people she hadn't seen since the war. Seamus, Dean, Parvati, even Lavender. The clear absences hung over everyone's heads. But it seemed, at least for one night, they could all temporarily put it aside. They'd survived. They'd won.

She made sure to check in with each and every D.A. Member. She knew they wouldn't have won without each and every person in that room.

"How about I get us something to drink?" George said.

"Yes, please"

He left her sitting at a table somewhere on the outskirts of the dance floor.

She saw many couples dancing. She saw Ginny and Harry, Neville and Hannah, and, to her shock, Ron and Cho.

Seeing her best friends looking so happy made her happy. They'd made it through.

Harry dipped Ginny, and Hermione was immediately reminded of the last time she'd been dipped like that...

 _"Fred?!" George hollered into the house._

 _Hermione and Fred fumbled to get their clothes back on. Immediately after the wedding they'd snuck off, hoping they could spend some time alone. They both knew she'd be leaving today. They could vaguely hear the reception in full swing down in the garden._

 _"Fred?!" they heard again, "get your arse down here! You are NOT leaving me alone with cousin Muriel any longer!"_

 _Fred quickly zipped up Hermione's dress, pushing her toward the door._

 _She pulled it open, hoping to slip out before he came up the stairs._

 _"Hermione?..."_

 _She ran right into his chest in her hasty escape attempt. she drew back sharply, red crawling up her neck._

 _"George!" Her voice came out high pitched and squeaky._

 _"What are you doing in our room?" He asked, his tone slightly accusing, "Is Fred up here?" George pushed past her into the room._

 _"Hey George!" Fred half shouted, jumping up from his incredibly messy bed. Luckily for them, he never made his bed, otherwise they'd be in a lot more trouble._

 _George looked between them, a bewildered expression on his face. He took in Hermione's rumpled dress and bushy hair (much bushier than normal) and Fred's half-buttoned shirt and red face._

 _His eyes suddenly grew wide. "You guys weren't-"_

 _"Don't be ridiculous." Hermione scoffed, playing it off quite well, "Fred just asked for my help finding his... His SPEECH!" She said in triumph, quite smug that she'd come up with that off the top of her head._

 _"His... Speech?"_

 _"Yeah, of course Georgie. You know I can't resist the chance to make a fool of myself in front of all of our family and friends," he said nervously, hoping his brother would accept the terrible cover up._

 _"Ok..." He was still looking at the two of them as if they'd been confunded._

 _"We found it though, so let's go downstairs, shall we?"_

 _Hermione pushed George back toward the door._

 _Fred made to follow them. He caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. It was Hermione's panties, hanging off of one of his bed posts._

 _He snatched it up and shoved it into his pocket. He only hoped George hadn't caught a glimpse of it._

 _They rejoined the wedding party. Of course they parted ways. They didn't want to draw any more attention to themselves than was necessary. Especially with George now watching them more closely._

 _Eventually, they managed to casually "run into each other" while mingling._

 _"So that was a close call," he stated._

 _"Maybe we should just tell him, Fred." She sighed heavily at the thought of revealing themselves._

 _"You think?"_

 _"Well, he is your twin brother. It doesn't really seem fair to him, does it?"_

 _"No... I guess not"_

 _She placed her hand on his upper arm, "it's been over two years now. We should've told people long before this. It's time."_

 _He looked at her with a terrified expression marring his features._

 _"It'll be ok, Fred." She glanced at his shirt which was buttoned wrong, rolling her eyes. "For Merlin's sake, you didn't even button up your shirt properly." She unbuttoned a few of them to fix the problem, smoothing out the fabric on his chest when she was done._

 _"Er...Hermione"_

 _She looked up at him, he glanced pointedly to either side of them. To their right, George was openly staring at them, the puzzled expression back. To their left Harry and Ron were sneaking glances at them, whispering quietly together._

 _"Oh..." She said sadly before taking a reluctant step away from him._

 _"Hermione..."_

 _"No. It's ok." Her voice betrayed how not ok she really was with it, "I know this isn't the right time. I don't want to take the day away from Bill and Fleur." She said it as if trying to convince herself, but she couldn't help the frown that had forced its way onto her face._

 _"What's going on, Hermione?" He was tempted to pull her chin up so she would look at him, but he knew his brother was still watching._

 _"I just wish we could be together. I don't know when I'm going to see you again, yet I have to walk around this stupid tent pretending you don't mean more to me." A tear slipped down her cheek, "I hate it." She choked out through her frustration, wiping angrily at her face, her lower lip trembling._

 _He would've chased after her when she bolted away, but he found himself unable to move. He hated having to pretend too. He was letting stupid insecurities get in the way. Which was why he stood rooted to the spot until it was too late._

 _"Oi!" Ron got right up into his face, "what did you say to Hermione?!" Harry had followed him over too, he looked angry as well._

 _"I didn't-"_

 _"Don't give me that, we saw her crying. What did you do?"_

 _"I didn't do anything, Ronnie. Maybe if you two paid any attention to her, you'd know what's wrong," he bit out, shoving his dumbstruck brother out of his way, wanting to be anywhere else but there._

 _He didn't see her again until almost an hour later._

 _"Hermione." He pulled her aside the second he saw her._

 _"I'm sorry Fred." Her eyes were rimmed in red._

 _"No if anyone should be sorry, it's me. You're completely right, I don't want to waste anymore time tonight pretending you don't matter."_

 _"But, we can't-"_

 _"Yes, we can. It's nobody else's business but ours. Let George stare. I don't care anymore."_

 _"Oh... Ok."_

 _He pulled her quickly out onto the dance floor before she could change her mind._

 _He bowed to her, "may I have this dance," he never tired of making her blush._

 _"Of course good sir." She curtsied back._

 _He whipped her around. She spent most of that first dance laughing as Fred over exaggerated every single movement._

 _"I hope you'll still be able to dance like this when we're old and grey," she said, laughing into his shoulder as he sharply turned them._

 _"Of course I will. We'll dance every day of our lives if that's what you want. Granted, near the end it might be more like one of us pushing the other's wheel chair around the room," he chuckled._

 _At the end, he gave her a big dip, just like their very first dance. She was out of breath, but she didn't want to stop._

 _She felt a tap on her shoulder and sighed, turning around to see who had interrupted them._

 _Viktor Krum stood before her._

 _"May I cut in-" he started, holding his arm out for her to take._

 _"No, you may not." Fred said harshly, quickly pulling Hermione away from the Bulgarian seeker to another part of the dance floor._

 _"Fred! That was incredibly rude! I should go back and apologize-"_

 _"Oh no you don't!" Fred said, pulling her back to him. "He can handle it 'Mione."_

 _"But-"_

 _"Let's just... Can we please just dance." His voice came out strangled._

 _She took a closer look at him. His eyes were oddly bright. She shook off the guilt that came with this observation, deciding to put aside everything and just enjoy the moment._

 _"Ok Fred."_

 _This dance wasn't anything like the Yule ball. They didn't twirl around, they didn't turn or dip. It was nice and slow. He held her close and they swayed back and forth to the music, her head on his chest._

 _They didn't even think about anything or anyone else._

 _She knew she had forever with him, and she happily pondered one day standing in Bill and Fleur's place, finally able to celebrate their relationship with all of their family and friends._

 _"The Ministry has fallen."_

 _They looked at each other, scared out of their wits. For one moment, she almost decided to stay with him, but the next second she'd given up on that flight of fancy and jumped into action. Giving him one last kiss on the cheek, she looked him in the eye. They could both tell. They were saying goodbye. Maybe forever. She wrenched away from him at a run, not looking back, afraid if she did, she wouldn't be able to do what she had to. Her departure kicked him into action, and he quickly looked around, searching for family members to help._

They'd shared their last dance that night.

She breathed in deeply, pretending she could still feel his arms wrapped around her, that she could hear his heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt.

"Here you go." George came up to where she sat and handed her a butterbeer and a small plate of treats.

"Thanks."

She took a sip of the sweet drink.

"So, how are you doing so far. Think we'll make it through?"

She picked up a yellow candy off the plate, popping it into her mouth before answering him.

"You know, I actually am enjoying it. I thought all I'd be able to think about was the last time we were in this room, but-" she stopped abruptly. Was it just her, or was the table growing?

No. She was shrinking.

She tried to reach out to George, who was smirking at her, but it was too late, she'd grown so small, she could no longer see over the tabletop.

She began to panic, wondering if someone had cursed her. It would be just like the Death Eaters to attack an event like this.

Her skin started tingling all over.

She opened her mouth to try and scream something up to warn George.

All that came out was a chirp.

She looked down at her body. It was covered in bright yellow feathers. And her arms were now wings.

She paused for a moment, trying to regain use of her brain.

Then it hit her.

CANARY CREAMS!

She flapped her wings, soaring up into the air. She saw George looking over at the small yellow bird that had taken Hermione's place, laughing loudly. She flew up to him, circling his head and twittering madly. He playfully batted at her as she tugged on his red locks with her tiny beak.

She wound around the table, performing little flips and dives as she did.

She spotted Harry at a nearby table, talking to Luna and Neville.

She darted toward him, doing the same thing to him that she'd done to George. Harry was a bit more shocked by it, he fell out of his chair when she chirped in his ear. Neville and Luna burst out laughing and from back at her table she could hear George's familiar peels of laughter as well.

She flew back to him, taking a spot on the table in front of where her chair was.

She picked at the food on her plate, hoping he hadn't thrown in a fainting fancy or puking pastille. She was pretty sure she would recognize it if he had. She should've know about the canary cream, but after a year without pranks, she'd been lulled into a sense of false security.

A few minutes later she felt her body slowly changing shape again until she was her normal size. Shed yellow feathers surrounded her seat.

A canary cream. It wasn't crazy or new or inventive. But it was a start. She was so happy, she almost started crying. George saw the tears and immediately assumed the worst. "Oh, Hermione. I'm so sorry-"

"No! You prat, I'm HAPPY."

"Oh... Well you don't exactly look it."

She burst into a fit of giggles, breaking out into tears at the same time.

She hugged him, fully aware that she was acting like a complete nutter.

"Not that I don't appreciate it and all, but... You're kind of getting my dress robes wet," He chuckled.

She stepped back her face infused with a red tint, but giggling all the same.

"There you are!" Angelina rushed over to them, "George, Oliver's here! I told him I'd come find you so you could say hi." George looked to Hermione, still concerned over her little outburst.

She rolled her eyes, "oh, go on. I'll be fine!"

She watched them weave their way through the crowd, stopping when they reached a small group of vaguely familiar people. She spotted Oliver right away, seeing as he was wearing his old Gryffindor quidditch jersey. She wasn't the least bit surprised.

Hermione sighed, shifting her attention to the other side of the room where Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville stood. Part of her wanted to join them. Harry noticed her lingering gaze, bringing his striking green eyes to meet hers. He tilted his head slightly- half invite, half question. She shook her head and he straightened up, turning back to his conversation.

Her eyes wandered over the room once more before catching on the double doors at the front of the room. Without her permission, her legs began to carry her in that direction. She knew they wouldn't miss her. They were all distracted by the festivities.

She took her time, brushing her fingertips along the castle walls as she walked. Before she had time to really register what was happening, she found herself in an archway, looking out into a devastatingly familiar courtyard. She braced herself for what she needed to do, understanding now why she had ended up there of all places.

She finally let her mind wander to the day she'd avoided for far too long.

 _"Hermi-!"_

 _"Crucio!"_

 _"NO!"_

 _Hermione had a millisecond to realize what the red stream of light meant for her. She braced herself for its impact, her body shuddering slightly at the phantoms of her previous experience with that particular curse. But the pain never came._

 _She shot off a final curse, taking down the Death Eater in front of her who had distracted her in the first place. She whipped around, ready to take on whoever had been foolish enough to send that curse in her direction._

 _Her brain froze up._

 _Fred was on the ground, writhing in pain in front of her. Rodolphus Lestrange stood over him, a look of utter and malicious glee twisting up his sick features._

 _An intense hate spread through Hermione, unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Raising her wand at the stupidly oblivious man, she felt all of her emotions coursing through her veins. The words were right on the tip of her tongue._

 _Watching this man torture Fred, she knew she had enough hate to do what her instincts told her to do. Just two little words. That's all it would take to remove the filth of his existence from the earth. Just two easy words and Fred's pain would disappear._

 _But she knew she couldn't do it. It was the coward's way out. It was the easy solution. The simple way to eliminate obstacles. To remove a person simply because you don't have the courage to face them. It was the option most Death Eaters agreed to when they signed up. Eliminate the beings that make you uncomfortable so you don't actually have to work out the real issues._

 _Hermione was no coward._

 _"Stupefy!"_

 _Rodolphus flew backwards into the hard wall of the castle with a sickening crack. His body slumped forward and he ceased to move._

 _She fell to her knees next to Fred, cradling his head in her hands. As much as she tried to stop it, she couldn't keep her fingers from trembling as she moved to sweep his hair out of his face. The red locks had taken on a deeper shade of crimson since being accompanied by his own blood._

 _"Fred." She shook his head a little bit. "Come on Fred, wake up."_

 _She felt for a pulse and was beyond relieved to find one. Realizing the terribly open and defenseless predicament they were in Hermione fumbled for her wand which she had dropped in her haste to examine him._

 _Her eyes swept the courtyard but saw no more threats. The sounds of the raging battle echoed around the suddenly eerily quiet square._

 _With a jolt, she realized where they were._

 _It took her a second. This time around things were different. There was no snow. No fairies. No music. But it was the same place. Her eyes started to water as she thought about how long ago all that seemed now. Would they ever get to feel that way again? That heart-pattering, careless freedom that came from a world whose innocence had not been snatched away and torn to bits by violence and blood?_

 _"Hermione..."_

 _She quickly brought her attentions back to the man now in her lap. "Fred!" She almost cried in relief at seeing his bright blue eyes. She fiercely hugged him to her chest, forgetting to be cautious of his wounds. Not that he minded._

 _Reluctantly, she pulled herself away, knowing they were lucky no one had stumbled upon them yet. He groaned as he attempted to stand up, a tear falling from the corner of his eye as his muscles spasmed and locked up in protest. The cruciatus had a way of sticking around long after its initial attack._

 _Once they were both standing, albeit he was still a little shaky, she did another sweep of their surroundings._

 _Her eyes found his, searching them for hidden pain or injury._

 _Finding nothing too serious, she did the only thing she could think to do. She shoved him._

 _He stumbled back, a sharp look of shock and befuddlement filling his face._

 _"What in Merlin's name, Hermione?!" Fred said, grimacing at the agony even such a small shove had caused him._

 _"I swear on my magic, Fred, if you ever throw yourself in front of a curse for me again, you won't have to worry about Death Eaters anymore because I will kill you myself."_

 _"I... I know it was stupid, but-"_

 _"But nothing!" She screamed at him, hitting his chest slightly as he attempted to pull her in to him. "I won't survive this war without you. I refuse." She said it quietly, a whisper on the wind, but he still caught it._

 _He sucked in a sharp breath, he could feel her shoulders starting to shake under his grasp. Suddenly somber, he looked down at the top of her head which was now laying against his chest._

 _"Fine. I'll try not to be so reckless again."_

 _She nodded into the fabric of his shirt before pulling away, opening her mouth to reply-_

 _A scream rent the air, disrupting the silence of their isolated spot._

 _Hermione's head whipped toward the sound. Her face displayed shock, almost as if she had forgotten they were in the middle of a battle._

 _She made to run toward the fighting, but was impeded by Fred's hand tightly gripping her wrist. He pulled her back toward him._

 _"Fred! I have to go-"_

 _"I love you, Hermione."_

 _And he kissed her. Right in the courtyard where it had all started. For a brief moment, they were just two teenagers again. No worries. No war. Just a quiet courtyard and a star sprinkled sky. Fred's hands came up to her face, both running down her cheeks lightly before embedding in her hair. She felt dizzy all over again, almost giddy. Hermione hoped all of her feelings for him were somehow being shown through that single kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck to bring their bodies closer. Unlike their first kiss, this one was tinged with a sort of desperation._

 _Both knew of their duties in the following hours, yet both were reluctant to leave one another again. Unfortunately, the war still raged on, uncompromising in its destruction. It did not care for or consider the two young people hidden away. So of course, just as Hermione felt herself melt into his embrace, a bright flash of red light interrupted them, this time, in the opposite direction of the scream they'd heard earlier._

 _They both reluctantly pulled away. Hermione saw her own fear and helplessness reflected in his eyes._

 _"I love you too, Fred." She hoped he understood her sincerity._

 _They split up, headed in opposite directions. Neither looked back. It would've made leaving impossible._

She never thought they'd have a last kiss...

How could it all have ended just like that?

She stood in the middle of the courtyard now, bringing a shaking hand up to her mouth. That final kiss ghosted over her lips now, along with all of the stolen ones in classroom hallways, the ones he'd snuck in in the middle of her sentences, the ones muffling their cries of passion in the middle of the night...

It physically hurt. Everything hurt. Would it ever stop? She didn't think so, regardless of what everyone said.

Time. That's what was supposed to heal her wounds. She'd heard it enough times for it to sink in. But the people who said that didn't understand. Not really. She was sure, with time, she would become a better actress. But that was all. She would become better at pretending to be fine. Maybe one day, she would become so adept at pretending that she would even be able to convince herself that it was true.

But that day was not today.

She pulled her hand away from her lips before the tears could fall.

It was such a stupid way for him to die. She knew wherever he was, he would be extremely dissatisfied with his demise. He couldn't go out in a blaze of glory, taking out a bunch of Death Eaters. No, he was crushed by a wall. It seemed very unfair and undignified and unworthy. But that's the point. That's what war does. Often times it's senseless and the true heroes don't always get to die in worthy, cinematic ways.

Her eyes drifted around. She saw the Yule ball replaying in front of her and she couldn't keep the smile from her lips. Despite the bitterness that came with memories such as these, it still brought an unparalleled lightness to what seemed to be an endless parade of dark days. She would think only of these moments. She would think of the good. The happy. The carefree...

She found herself wondering, not for the first time, where he was now. She hoped wherever it was, that the stars were shining, and that it was a beautiful night, just like the one she was looking at now. That he was able to see her in this spot, where everything began for them. That, in this moment, he wished he had stayed as much as she wished it.

Her mind played back the whole fateful dance over 4 years previous. She smiled at his goofy expression, and curtsied in acceptance of his hand. She swore she could almost feel his arms around her as he swept them around a final time.

She laughed out loud as the memory faded back into the recesses of her mind, and she was once again, alone.

She would try to continue on. She had to. But she knew one thing to be true as she looked out fondly onto the grounds, remembering each and every crazy moment.

She still loves him

And he still loves her.

She can hear it in the silence.


End file.
